Lascivious
by Queen Riza
Summary: If alchemists live by the concept of Equivalent Exchange, it seems only natural that Roy Mustang must replace what he has destroyed. Lust!Roy
1. Chapter 1

"Visiting hours are ending in a few minutes. And then _you_ ," the nurse— a young thing with close cut brown hair— said pointedly to the pretty brunette sitting on the edge of Roy's bed, "need to get out of here, Miss… um…"

"Christmas," Vanessa said languidly, "and I'll be out in a minute, alright _darling_?" she gave a wicked smirk in Roy's direction. The nurse stormed out of the room.

"Poor thing," Vanessa mused. "She's got quite a crush on you. I don't suppose we should tell her I'm not actually your girlfriend?"

Roy laughed. "After what you just pulled, I think it's best she doesn't know you're my sister. Besides, a broken heart might do her some good. Give Havoc a chance with her," he gestured to the man asleep in the bed next to him.

"Saving yourself for Elizabeth are you?" Vanessa teased, and raised an eyebrow when she noticed a momentary shift in his expression.

He regained his composure quickly, "You could say that." He grinned, "Or maybe I have better things to do with my time than flirt and sleep with people."

"Ah that's right, _you_ don't have a snot nosed baby brother who needs you to collect information from a bunch of grubby looking military officials. I take it you don't want this report then?" She took the slip of paper from her pocket and waved it tauntingly.

"Now I didn't say that," he said quickly, and made to snatch the paper from her hand.

She pulled it away, "I wonder if I should though," she said more seriously, "the doctor told me, Roy, about the way your insides were cut open, about the way _you sealed them_. And your man Havoc over there…" Roy winced. "You know what Mom said to tell you before I came here? She said to make sure that you weren't in over your head. And if this isn't that, well then I don't know what is."

Roy sighed, "Nessa…"

"Oh don't give me that crap. I just hope you know what you're doing, Roy, because I'm trusting you. And if you get yourself killed, I'll never forgive you."

"I'll be fine, honestly," he promised, resisting the childish urge to cross his fingers. She reluctantly handed the paper over and as he read it, his lips twisted into a smirk, "Thank you, Vanessa. And now you'd probably better get going before that poor nurse skins you alive."

She laughed as she stood from the edge of the bed. "You're right. I'll tell the girls you said hello."

As she closed the door behind her, Roy could hear Havoc beginning to stir in the bed beside him. He would be disappointed to have missed Vanessa, he knew. The 2nd Lieutenant had a thing for Roy's sister, in the way that he had a thing for every pretty girl he met. He wondered if he couldn't persuade Vanessa to take Havoc out some time. God knew the man deserved it after everything he had been through.

 _A spinal injury… He can never walk again…_

But a new sound from the hallway outside the hospital room disturbed Roy from his musings.

" _No more visitors!_ " But the nurse stopped dead in her tracks when she opened the door.

Roy snapped to attention the best he could with the stabbing pain in his side. "Fuhrer Bradley, sir. To what do I owe the honor?"

"Can't the Fuhrer check after the well-being of some of his injured officers?" He turned to the nurse, who had backed into the opposite corner of the room, "Can I have a word in private with Colonel Mustang?"

"Oh… um… of course, sir! I'm sure there's a private room somewhere…"

"Don't bother; I prefer to walk. There's something I'd like to show the Colonel. I hope you don't mind, Mustang?'

"I should be able to manage." Roy was curious. He had assumed that Bradley would want to know what he had been doing in the laboratory, and he supposed it might be best to tell him everything. The Fuhrer deserved to know about the threat of the homunculi and about the corruption that was seemingly deep within the military. However, he had no idea what Bradley could possibly want to _show_ him.

Walking was harder than he anticipated, and as he strode out into the corridor, he tried to disguise his pain.

Bradley raised an eyebrow. "You were injured pretty badly, Colonel."

"Not nearly as badly as my subordinate," Roy replied grimly.

"Ah, 2nd Lieutenant Havoc; I heard. A good soldier; he'll be missed. Hopefully he finds retirement more enjoyable than his military career."

This surprised Roy even more. It was odd enough that the leader of the country had paid attention to a Colonel being injured, but a Lieutenant… Unless Bradley had been looking into the affairs of the laboratory personally, it made no sense.

"Well about that, sir…" Suddenly, Roy didn't feel nearly as confident about relaying the real events and he fumbled for a new story.

"No need to explain, Mustang," Bradley said pleasantly and gestured to a door at the end of the hall. "Now if you would just take a look in here."

Roy stepped into a dark room. The butt of the sword hit him over the back of the head before he even had time to voice his confusion.

* * *

The number of homunculi had dwindled down to six and Father couldn't pretend to be pleased. Of course, the number may as well have been five; due to Greed's insolence, he was as good as dead until Father could find, kill, and recreate him himself. And now with Lust's demise, his forces had been weakened further, and so close to the Promised Day. The damage was not irreparable, of course; simply inconvenient, but this Lust had been a near perfect model. Her passion was not geared towards the carnal distractions that impeded humans, but rather a lust for blood. He would be lucky if he was ever able to conceive a Lust like that again.

He had been so annoyed that his initial instinct was to arrange an "accident" for the Flame Alchemist. Sacrifice or no, the man had just proved himself far too dangerous to be kept alive. Besides, Marcoh could easily serve as the fifth sacrifice.

Perhaps that's what he would have done, had he still been tainted by all the mortal follies he has possessed in his creation in the flask. But there was another option: a far more appealing use for Roy Mustang.

The man was beginning to come to. He rose shakily, clutching at his injured side. Poor work from Lust, Father couldn't help but think; she should have stabbed him until she was certain he was dead. It certainly wasn't unlike her to want to watch the man bleed out next to his dying subordinate, and in the past, Father had seen no reason to deny her such amusements. This time her fun had proved fatal, however, and he would have to be sure not to allow such carelessness from her successor.

"What… what the hell is this?" Mustang demanded. "Fuhrer Bradley? And _you_ ," he spat when he saw Gluttony, "Who the hell are you people?"

He didn't bother answering. "Gluttony, hold him down. Make sure he stays still." He summoned a new Philosopher's Stone from his own body and approached the man struggling under the giant homunculus' grip.

"You… you… what are you even trying to accomplish here?" His questions fell on deaf ears as Father tore off Mustang's bandages and applied the Philosopher's Stone to the exposed wounds.

 _Welcome back, Lust…_

* * *

A/N: Hey Chloe here! Those of you who follow me on Tumblr probably know that I've been excited about this AU for quite a while and I hope you guys enjoy the fic as it continues! The next chapter should pick up with Riza and the rest of Team Mustang.


	2. Chapter 2

Riza returned to work immediately. She felt shaken still, but she hadn't been injured and wasn't about to take a day off for emotional duress. Like Roy had told her, she needed to keep moving, and she had to stay strong. He would need that from her now more than ever.

In the Colonel's absence, Riza, as the highest ranking of his subordinates, had overseen managing most of the team's work ("And how is that different from normal?" Breda had quipped when she had informed them), but no matter how smoothly things ran, there was an undeniable emptiness with Roy and Havoc gone. It was by no means alleviated by the knowledge that only one of the two would be returning.

Something was different today though, and Riza could sense it the moment she walked into the office.

"These just came in," Fuery told her, and she knew instantly something was deeply wrong.

Sliding the paper of out the manila folder, she read her orders.

"We've all been reassigned." Fuery told her, "I'm going to the west, they're sending Falman up north, Breda to the south…"

"And that's not even the weird part," said Breda. "Last night, Mustang was released from the hospital. Completely healed."

That was impossible. It was a miracle he had even lived in the first place and it should have taken months for him to fully recover. Riza had been there; she had heard the doctors say it.

Breda went on, "He was promoted to Brigadier General immediately and assigned a new office in Central Command. One a lot closer to the Fuhrer's office than this one. The word is that he may have finally made it into the inner circle of Command."

"I just wish he wasn't leaving all of us in the dust," Fuery said mournfully.

Riza should have been thrilled. He was so close, so close to everything they had worked towards for so long. But something seemed off. Why now? And why had he said nothing about his promotion to her? Why were all the members of his team, handpicked by Roy himself, being transferred? _And why her assignment?_

"So where are they sending you?" asked Fuery. "Back to Eastern Command?"

She just shook her head and handed him the paper.

 _First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye, you have been promoted to the rank of Captain and are to report back to Brigadier General Roy Mustang, where you will continue to work under him with his new team._

* * *

The Brigadier General looked very comfortable kicked back in his seat. He glanced up, "Lieutenant Hawkeye," he said smoothly, but there was something about the intonations of his voice that seemed off. "They didn't tell me you'd be hot."

Casual flirting wasn't exactly unusual for Roy but Riza's hand couldn't help but brush against her gun holster.

"Sir," she began, "are you certain that you're ready to leave the hospital? You underwent a lot of stress and I'm not sure how well you're handling—"

She was cut off when he kissed her. For a moment, instinct took over, and the familiarity of Roy's lips against hers. But it was only a moment and in the next, Riza's hand had slipped into her holster, and in the moment after that she had a gun pressed against his chest.

"Step away, sir," she said coolly, but to her surprise he only laughed.

"Damn," he said. "Figured it out that quick? They didn't tell me you'd be smart either; I was hoping we could have little fun before you caught on," he sat back down at his desk. "Or is that not the way things are between the two of you?"

"Who are you?" The question came from between gritted teeth, "Where's General Mustang?"

"Mustang?" The imposter waved his hand dismissively. "Oh he's dead. Or might as well be anyways. Whatever consciousness he has left is buried deep enough that I won't allow it to get through. As for me…" He smirked, eyeing her invasively from top to bottom. "I'm Lust. Pleasure to meet you."

Riza could have laughed out loud, "You're dead. I saw the Colonel burn you to ashes myself."

"Did you really?" Lust seemed genuinely curious. "Now, that would have been the old Lust you met, but let's see can I… oh, I do remember you," His lips twisted into a smirk again. "You were so torn up about Mustang dying… and after all that you wouldn't even give him a kiss?"

Riza ignored the question and aimed her gun all the more steadily. "What do you want? Why are you still in the military? And why would you transfer the rest of Mustang's team but leave me here?"

"Now, Lieutenant, you ought to remember that your bullets are hardly a threat to me. But still, I'll answer your questions all the same. I'm in the mood for making friends. Won't you sit down?"

He gestured to the chair in front of his desk but Riza remained as she was, not removing her gaze from the gun's aim at his heart.

He sighed. "Alright. As for what I want, I'm afraid you won't be getting a word out of me. I've remained in the military because my Father believes this is the best tactical position for me. I'm sure you've worked out by now that the military isn't entirely free of corruption?"

She nodded.

"And I'm also sure that you already know why I had the rest of Mustang's team transferred."

"If you want to remain in the military, you can't allow people to catch onto the fact that you're not the real Roy Mustang. No matter how deep the military's corruption goes, if people begin to talk, there's nothing you can do. You need to remove him from those who knew him best and would first catch on that you aren't really Mustang. But that doesn't explain—"

"Why I needed you here? Well… how about I tell you there's something you have that may be of interest to me."

"Vague answers are of no interest to me," Riza shot back.

"Well I'm afraid that's all you're going to get, Lieutenant Hawkeye."

"Fine. I have one more question," Riza said.

Lust gestured in permissiveness.

"Your— that is— General Mustang's Flame Alchemy. You can't use it anymore, can you?"

For the first time, Lust's smirk faded into something like discontent. "You're correct."

"Excellent." Riza grinned right as the bullet hit him in between the eyes.

"I told you, Hawkeye," he began as skin began to stretch and crawl across the open wound, "it's not that simp—" She cut him off with another shot to the side of his mouth.

His fingers grasped desperately at torn flesh. "What the hell are you playing at, woman?" He ignored the next bullet, this one to the heart.

"I've learned the hard way that it'll take more than a few bullet wounds to kill you, but you're operating on limited lives, right? You've got hundreds, maybe thousands, left, but I'm going to end as many as I can before we're done here."

He laughed again as a quick succession of bullets depleted the ammo of Riza's first gun. She withdrew a second.

"You know, even if you do somehow manage to kill me eventually, your precious General goes down too. He's as much a part of this body as I am.

Riza didn't blink. This was no time for her to be taken by emotion as she had been before; she knew what he would have her do. "You said General Mustang was dead, or as good as," she said, aiming carefully. "Call me a fool for taking the word of a monster, but I have no intentions of allowing his murderer to live a second time."

He sighed. "Well then I'm afraid that you leave me no choice." Slowly, he removed Roy's gloves. "It's a shame, Lieutenant; we could have been such good friends."

There was a barely perceptible flash of black and Riza's gun had been ripped from her hand. A beat, another flash, and her holster had been torn open, with her guns and ammunition spilling out onto the floor.

"Why, Lieutenant Hawkeye," he said, brandishing those terrible black spears protruding from his hands, "you're even better looking when you're nervous." He traced down the side of her face, smirking at the blood it withdrew. "Now are you quite sure," he breathed, inches from her face, "that you don't want to have any fun before I kill you?"

His eyes widened suddenly, and he jerked back, nearly falling to the ground.

" _Stay away from her_ ," he growled, staggering back to his feet. He seemed to twitch again and he grabbed her arm, pushing her up against the wall. The edges of the spears dug into the side of her arm and she clenched her teeth to bear the pain. With his other hand, he held a single finger, a single elongated black spear, against her throat.

 _"Do you see where I have her?"_ he spat. " _Do you really think you can fight me now? Do you even understand the position you two are in, you sentimental fool…"_

His eyes had been overtaken by a burning hatred Riza had never seen there before. She flinched away from his warm breath against her neck when she had a last, desperate idea. She jerked her knee up.

Lust, used to being in a woman's body, took no time to double over in pain. The moment his grip loosened, Riza slipped out. With Lust cursing behind her, she knew she didn't have enough time to find a more desirable escape route and closed her eyes as she jumped out of the closest window, praying that the building wasn't as tall as she thought.

* * *

A/N: Hey guys! I hope you liked the latest chapter; sorry about the wait. I also wanted to let you guys know that Lascivious officially has fan art! The wonderful Anna aka mustangsflame on Tumblr drew a scene from the first chapter which I'll try to link to on my bio.


	3. Chapter 3

Jean still couldn't believe it. It had been bad enough when he had seen the uproar someone being rushed in. Someone had fallen from a building, he had been told, maybe jumped; they weren't sure yet. A few hours later one of the nurses had told him that it was a woman, and the building she had fallen from was Central HQ. Still, Jean hadn't been prepared for them to move Riza Hawkeye into the bed next to him.

"Dozens of broken bones— I'm not even talking about fractures, a huge amount of lost blood… Luckily, we were able to get her a transfusion almost right away." The doctor frowned and shook her head. "It seems bad, but considering the height she fell from, she was extremely lucky. We can't be sure of the long term effects, but I predict with enough rehabilitation, she should be able to make a full recovery. I must say, Mr. Havoc," she added, "that it does seem a little fishy. One moment you and General Mustang are in here, and the second he leaves another member of your team is in the hospital."

Jean shrugged. "I guess I've always just had shitty luck. But do you have idea why—"

"She jumped? I'm afraid not. There's an investigation going on I hear, but... normally when someone jumps from three stories high, there's one reason. You worked with her?"

He nodded. "For years. Something like this… it's not like her. There had to be a reason… a good reason."

She smiled in what was clearly meant to be a comforting manner. "I'm sure she thought it was."

She turned to leave, but paused, just outside the door. "I have heard one thing," she admitted. "I didn't think much of it… but maybe since you knew her… She regained consciousness briefly when she was being brought in and said one thing before losing it. 'He's still in there.' Do you have any idea what that could have meant?"

Jean thought hard for a moment. "No," he admitted. "I don't."

She smiled sympathetically as she walked out. "I wouldn't spend my time worrying about Ms. Hawkeye. You have your own recovery to concern yourself with."

Ah. That. As nice of a sentiment as it was, Jean couldn't see that there was much he could do in the way of his own personal recovery. The arrangements had been made: he had officially retired from the military and had a nice cushy store job waiting for him back home. He had given up; General Mustang might be waiting for him at the top but it looked like he was about to stand up that particular date with destiny.

The lights clicked off as the hospital settled down with nightfall. He tried to drift off to sleep but his thoughts were still with the woman in the bed next to him. He knew Riza well enough that she wouldn't have jumped unless she had a very good reason, and he couldn't help but think that it was somehow connected to the incident at the laboratory. There was clearly corruption from deep within the military, so… a failed assassination attempt? Was this like General Hughes' murder—had they learned too much? It still didn't feel right.

His thoughts were cut short by the sudden sound of the door creaking open. He looked over expectantly, hoping it would be the pretty brunette nurse, who, after Mustang's release from the hospital, had begun to take a liking to him. He was surprised to be greeted with a more masculine figure.

" _Mustang?_ " he asked, incredulous. "You know, visiting hours are over, chief."

The man, who had been focused on the body of the unconscious woman, looked up in surprise.

"Do you know what happened to her?" Jean pressed on. "Was she pushed or—"

"Oh she jumped," Mustang said, looking back down at her. "Damn woman thought she could escape me if she made a big enough scene in a big enough crowd. There were enough people down below that she'd be taken to a hospital immediately— no way for me to get to her around all those people. Well she underestimated me. I don't mind making a little bit of a mess."

Jean gaped. " _What?_ " His head was spinning, trying to make sense of what the other man had said. "You're… you're not Mustang."

"Catch on quickly, do you? I can see why Hawkeye was Mustang's right hand and not you. No, I'm not the Flame Alchemist. My name is Lust."

Jean paused, staring in shock at his former commanding officer.

" _Solaris?_ " He was decidedly aware of a flush rushing to his face.

"Who?" Lust looked annoyed. "No, you must have known the old Lust. She's gone; I'm here to stay."

Despite everything, Jean couldn't help but feel relieved that the man who looked like General Mustang held no memories of being his ex-girlfriend.

He recovered quickly though. "And what is it you're doing here, then? What do you want with Lieutenant Hawkeye?"

"What I want the woman for is none of your business," Lust shot back. "She possesses something important and I need her close to me. Seeing as she seems to choose to run away, I need to take her back to my Father so she can be kept completely under our control."

"You can't just take her," Jean said angrily. "She's in a hospital for a reason; if you need her alive you have to keep her here."

Lust waved his hand dismissively. "She'll be healed completely once I take her to my Father. You'd be better off worrying about yourself," he said with a vicious grin as he unsheathed long black spears. "It's too bad you couldn't have just stayed asleep; now you're a loose end that needs to be cut off."

Jean grinned back, pulling a gun out from under his bedsheets. "Now, you see, I was kind of expecting that. As much as we'd both like to think otherwise, this isn't my first time dealing with you, Solaris. I know how you hate to leave a mess."

Lust raised his eyebrows, clearly impressed. "You smuggled firearms into a _hospital_?"

"Call me a paranoid gun nut, but right now I'm pretty glad I did."

Lust just laughed. "Well it's no matter; you say you know me, well then you should have learned that your gun is pretty much useless."

Jean smirk didn't waver. "See that door over there?" He nudged his head to the left. "That's the hospital staff's break room. Right about now, there should be several nurses in there, gossiping and complaining about having to take the night shift. I shoot you, sure you'll kill me in an instant. But in the time it takes for you to recover, the noise will have brought several nurses in. There's no way you can make a getaway undetected."

Lust froze. "Not too bad," he admitted warily, "I underestimated you. But you're doing me the same disservice. Even if I leave now, I'll just back and get Hawkeye another time."

He sighed, looking down at Riza and then back at Lust determinedly. "I don't intend on stopping you."

"You don't?"

 _I'm sorry Riza._ "You say this Father guy will heal her completely once you take her with you?" Lust nodded. "That's a better deal than she's probably going to get here."

Lust nodded slowly. "Alright. Deal." Slowly, he withdrew his spears and pulled the sheets back from Riza's unconscious body, picking her up. "I haven't seen the last of you, have I?"

"Probably not," Jean admitted.

Lust paused for a long moment. "Good," he said slowly, as if each syllable came with tremendous difficulty. "I thought I'd be waiting for you at the top, but here I am at the bottom. Either way, I'll be seeing you, Jean Havoc. I knew you wouldn't give in so easily." He shuddered for a moment, and then left as quickly as he came in.

Jean sat there for a moment.

"I get it now, Riza," he said to the empty bed beside him.

 _He's still in there._

* * *

A/N: Hey there! Hope you guys liked this chapter; hopefully I should be explaining what Lust is doing a little more in the next. I just started school today (senior year!) so I can't promise updates will be happening terribly frequently. That being said, I will definitely try my best to get them to you!


	4. Chapter 4

_A cool breeze rustled Roy's hair as he leaned against the tree. He read the same lines of the faded alchemy text again and again, but the words slipped through his mind like sand as he struggled not to doze off._

 _"I hope I didn't interrupt your nap," a voice came from behind._

 _"Riza!" Roy fumbled, trying to act like he had not been in the process of placing his book like a pillow. "Of course not; I was just studying."_

 _Riza raised an eyebrow but didn't contradict him. "What's it on?" she asked._

 _"Um advanced Equivalency and how it relates to the specific breakdown of chemicals… it's pretty complicated stuff."_

 _She nodded thoughtfully. "I think I've gone over that stuff with my father. Here, why don't you let me see that and I'll see if I can help? It'll at least help you to study with a partner."_

 _Roy dutifully handed over the book and watched her as she flipped through it thoughtfully._

 _"Alright," she said, and began to explain things carefully, scratching transmutation circles into the dirt. Occasionally, Roy would jump in, adding marks of his own, until the two were discussing the subject together as the sun faded into the sky._

 _"Why don't you study alchemy?" Roy asked eventually. "I mean, you're clearly good at it and you certainly have all the resources to learn it."_

 _Riza looked up from the dirt and lay down, staring up at the stars beginning to peek out of the darkening sky. "I guess I like the world the way it is," she said. "I don't want to have to turn it into anything else."_

* * *

Lust was annoyed. None of this had gone the way he had planned: Hawkeye escaping out the window, leaving a witness behind at the hospital… Of course, he had neglected to mention that last part when reporting back to Father; Lust was only about a few days old, and that was a far shorter life than he intended to live.

"You brought her _here_?" Father asked angrily. "An outsider; not even a candidate for sacrifice—"

"Look, I had to," Lust protested. "She knew about us, who I was. I can't just let her out into the world with that knowledge."

"I agree," said Father. "Which is why you kill her, or even better, you allow Wrath to transfer her somewhere else like the rest of the Flame Alchemist's team before you got us into this mess."

Lust shook his head. "Not this one. Like I told you, she's important."

"And I was inclined to agree with you before you lost control of her so quickly and spectacularly. And all you have to go off of is Mustang's word—"

"Not his _word_ ," Lust said sharply. "Like I said, I've been eradicating what's left of Roy Mustang's own consciousness, slowly making it complacent with my own."

"Like Wrath did with his vessel the moment they were merged," Father reminded him.

Lust bristled at the comparison but went on, "As a result, I'm getting increasingly more access to his memories and this woman… she's his weakness. Mustang won't try to defy us when we have her in our custody. And more importantly, she's the key to what we're looking for."

"She wouldn't even be necessary if you would spend less time worrying about her and more time keeping Mustang under control." Father frowned. "Don't pretend that he doesn't gain control sometimes; it hasn't escaped any of our notice. If you could force him into submission, you would have complete access to his consciousness and not need this woman at all."

"Well in the meantime," Lust said hastily, "let's get information where we can. Mustang isn't telling me anything about Flame Alchemy and obviously I can't exactly just start trying things out for myself. Hawkeye is connected to it, I'm certain."

"Well find out quickly then. We lost a valuable candidate for sacrifice when I created you and I don't want that to be for naught. With a tool as powerful as fire on our side… capable of even destroying homunculi… we'll have more than made up for our losses."

"Have you even decided who you want to make the next Flame Alchemist yet?" Lust couldn't help but ask. "I doubt you're going to want it since you don't go out in the field enough…"

"True," Father admitted, "Wrath has a number of candidates, all State Alchemists, that we are considering."

"Not Kimblee—"

"Ideally, not him," Father said. "Though he would no doubt take to the task with the most… enthusiasm, there are other alchemists who are easier to control. Even Mustang seemed ideal after his work in Ishval until he started interfering with our plans."

He felt a moment of intense anger and Lust quickly pushed Mustang back. This was the last place he needed that bastard pushing his way through.

Father looked at him skeptically, clearly noticing something was off and Lust went on hastily. "I'll go deal with the woman now."

Father shook his head. "I'll send Envy once he returns. Until Mustang is under control, I can't trust that he won't take over your body and just let her go."

Clenching his fists in anger, Lust stormed out of the room, partly because he knew he couldn't argue. Even now, he could feel Mustang right below the surface, see his smirking face, feel him forcing his way into his consciousness, and it infuriated him. Father had been right; Wrath had had no difficulty with his vessel fighting to maintain a different consciousness, and Lust, on his most triumphant battles, could only tear away glimpses of Mustang's memories.

What memories they were though. Fire and blood, screaming and anguish, but also a woman's soft touch, the deep red of an array in sharp contrast with the pale skin it was embedded in, and that familiar blonde hair…

He could feel control slipping away; Mustang was trying to take advantage of Lust's preoccupation in order to regain control. But the reassurance the memories provided was worth it. When the Father of the Homunculi had forged the Flame Alchemist into one of his own children, he had had one goal in mind. Lust was certain that Riza Hawkeye was the answer.

* * *

Gluttony knew the Hawkeye woman was just on the other side of the door. Her tender, delicious looking flesh was just on the other side—just out of reach. If he ate the door first… No, no. Father had given him a job: to watch this side of the door and make sure no one could get through. Father had promised him that Gluttony could eat anyone who tried to get through and then, when they were finished with what they needed the woman for—Gluttony licked his lips.

There was a faint sound of footsteps at the end of the hall and Gluttony wondered if Envy had come back. But as the footsteps grew louder, he could see it was Lust. Gluttony didn't know how to feel about this new Lust. He missed the old one and had been thrilled when Father said he would bring her back, but this new one seemed different; colder, and uninterested in Gluttony. Still, he hoped that maybe Lust would change and he'd discover that he wasn't too different from his predecessor. Gluttony smiled tentatively at the other homunculus right before he was sliced apart.

* * *

This wasn't where Riza had been expecting to wake up. As consciousness was steadily regained, she did a quick motion check. Nothing seemed to be broken at least, she thought, kicking her legs back and forth to make certain. And there didn't seem to be any blood. In fact, she wasn't injured at all, unless you counted the dizzying headache splitting her head in two. It didn't make any sense; she had fallen at least three stories and should have counted herself lucky if she survived.

She tried looking around to discern her surroundings, but between her headache and the darkness of the room she was being kept in, she could hardly make out anything at all. She had expected to wake in the hospital, but this… Riza groaned as everything fell into place. Her plan had failed. Somehow, Lust must have gotten to her first and she had fallen out of the frying pan and into the fire.

She felt blindly around the room until her hand brushed against what must have been the door. Fumbling for the door knob, she turned it and found it, as she had expected, locked.

Her headache began to fade and she was beginning to pay closer attention to the noises coming from the other side of the door. There was definitely some kind of struggle going on. Riza could hear what must be the fat homunculus screaming and a familiar voice—Riza stopped herself. That voice wasn't familiar. Not anymore. She couldn't decipher exactly what was happening— if the homunculi were fighting each other or fighting someone else together. Either way, her hand naturally slid to the place her gun holster should have been. She felt naked and helpless as she grasped at empty air.

The noises stopped, other than the rattling of unlocking the door. It was a sickening familiar sight, Roy Mustang in a uniform stained by blood, though the blood didn't usually disappear into thin air like this.

"What do you want?" she spat.

"Let's cut back on the pleasantries for now; I've only got so long."

"Sir?"

He grinned. "For a couple more minutes maybe. We've got to get you out of here."

In a moment of breathless excitement, she stepped forward, reaching— she stopped herself quickly, centimeters away, fingertips brushing his.

"I… I'm glad to see you, sir."

His smile wavered for a moment and then disappeared.

"Me too," he said softly.

She followed him out into the hallway. "Is he dead?" she motioned to where Gluttony had been.

"Better be after all the trouble I went to. I've got to give Flame Alchemy credit for one thing; it's a lot less tedious than these damn spikes. Follow me."

He led her through hallways and tunnels, back to the familiar lights of Central.

"You've got to stop them, Lieutenant. I'm doing my best to slow them down—but that's all I can do. Eventually, Lust is going to break me down and he'll take everything I know. The last thing we need right now is for Flame Alchemy to fall into the hands of these people. It was… it was already bad enough when it was just me."

She nodded.

He hesitated for a moment. "And… I have some new information. It'll take a while, but I'll try to get it in before Lust takes over again." He told her everything: about Wrath, how the country was ruled by a monster, about the transmutation circle encircling the country, sealing their fates.

"I… I can't believe it," she said weakly. "This whole time, everything we've been through, Ishval, everything that happened—it was all part of one plan?"

He nodded. "You see why we can't let them get more powerful? I can't tell you what to do, because Lust will hear everything I tell you, but you need to get the word out. Let people know what's happening, but also stay out of sight so they won't find you." He frowned, his fist clenching as if in pain. "You need to go; I don't have much more time."

"General—"

"Lieutenant, _run_."

Riza Hawkeye always behaved rationally and precisely. Her actions were rarely determined by anything other than what was most logical, and to do something so foolish as to waste time when there was so little was completely out of character.

She didn't give a fuck about that.

She grabbed Roy by his shirt and kissed him hard, kissed him like she couldn't feel him slipping away from her even in that brief moment.

She let go and Roy—or Lust, who knew—seemed dazed enough that it gave her the seconds she needed to sprint away into the night.

* * *

A/N: Hey! Sorry for the wait; I tried to make this one a teensy bit longer to make up for it. Unfortunately, right now is college apps time, so this fic will have to take a backseat until I finish my college essays.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Hey everyone! Anyone remember this fic? No, maybe not and that's probably fair. The good news is that during this long hiatus a lot of exciting (and busy) things have been going on behind the scenes. If you follow me on Tumblr, you're probably semi aware of me graduating high school and completing my first year of college. The other good news (Yep! Two of them!) is that this fic is now completely written. Yeah, you heard that right; for the first time in my life (No, actually. For the _first time_ ) I have finished a multi chapter work, so the long waits are over and this will be updating probably on a weekly (Maybe biweekly? We'll see) basis. Of course, the equivalent exchange paid for that was this incredibly long wait you all sat through. Hopefully you still find this fic something to be worth reading and I really hope you all enjoy the future installments of _Lascivious_.

And, as always, a special thanks to Kate (rizascupcakes on Tumblr) for beta-ing this.

* * *

The sun shone through the train's dirty, smudged window, and its layers of bright rays painted the compartment like a canvas. Just outside, picturesque landscapes rushed by, image after image of sprawling green meadows and pristine blue skies flashed with all the fervency of a stop motion picture. But to the young woman drumming her fingers off tempo against the compartment window, even the sunniest days and clearest skies could not make time pass by any faster.

At last, the train pulled to a stop. She grabbed her suitcase and walked briskly into Central Station. It had been a long time since she had been to the nation's capital—too long for someone who enjoyed the hustle and bustle of one of Amestris' few big cities. She'd been too busy to visit, she would tell others, or the train ride was too long, she'd complain, ignoring the notion in the back of her mind that perhaps the real reason for her reluctance lay with who she knew was there.

This visit was hardly for frivolity, however; she knew that she would never be able to forgive herself if something happened that she could have prevented. She hailed a cab and, after her hand scrambled through her overcrowded purse for the slip of paper, she read off the address to the driver.

"Hospital?" the driver asked gruffly. "You got family there?"

"Ex-boyfriend," she admitted, and they spent the rest of the ride in silence.

They pulled up to the hospital, and after telling the name of the patient to the woman at the front desk, she made her way up to the room and flung open the door.

He was smoking, like he always did, even when she had told him how much she hated it.

 _"_ _There are some things you just can't quit on," he had told her._ She, apparently, had not been one of them.

He nearly dropped the cigarette in surprise. "R-rebecca?"

"Oh spare me the pleasantries, Jean; you know why I'm here. Now what's this I've heard about Riza suddenly disappearing? Why has every single member of your team who I've tried to contact apparently been transferred to some god forsaken corner of the country? _And why is Mustang refusing to answer any of my calls asking about Riza_?"

He was taken aback and, embarrassed by her outburst, she quickly sat down in a chair by his bed. "And… uh… I'm sorry about your legs. I was going to come, but I…"

"I understand," he said quickly.

"But Riza? Is she alright? The hospital told me when I called that she had just suddenly disappeared from this room in the middle of the night."

"She should be alright," he assured her. "Better off than if she had been left here, I hope." He seemed to note Rebecca's obvious confusion and struggled to put the words together. "You see, I had to… I kind of let her get kidnapped?"

"You _what_?"

"No that's wrong—well it's not but there's more to it than that. Mustang—"

"What does Mustang have to do with this?"

"Well, he's not really Mustang anymore." He struggled hastily for an explanation. He's… he's kind of my ex-girlfriend now."

Rebecca blinked. "Roy Mustang is your ex-girlfriend?"

Jean sighed. "Let me start at the beginning. Do you know what a homunculus is?"

And he told it from the beginning. From when he had first been transferred to Central, less than a week after their breakup, and he met a pretty young woman calling herself Solaris. He recounted the weeks since then and Rebecca could only listen in breathless shock.

"So let me get this straight," she said after he had finished. "The living embodiment of sexual deviancy wanted carry off my best friend and you just _let_ him?"

"Look, Becca—"

Rebecca bristled at the nickname and Jean rushed over his words to cover up his lapse. "I didn't exactly have another choice. My only other option was that he would do it anyways but kill me first. And besides, you didn't see her. She was in pretty bad shape and he said that that Father guy—"

"And you just believed him?"

"What else could I have done? If you can see a better option then feel free to tell me because trust me, Rebecca, I've been running through that night this whole time trying to find one."

She was silent for a moment, and looked helplessly into her lap. "And Mustang?" she said eventually. "He really is dead?"

Jean shook his head. "The last thing Lust said to me… about waiting for me at the top… that was Mustang, I'm sure of it. He's still somewhere deep in there, waiting, biding his time."

She shook her head, trying to get it all straight. "So… so he's Lust now then?"

"Looks like it."

Rebecca whistled softly. "I suppose you could say Roy Mustang has truly become Roy Mustbang."

"Roy Lustang, if you will," Jean added.

She laughed for a moment but quickly returned to the gravity of the situation.

"Well what are we going to do about this then?"

"What can we do?" Jean asked helplessly. "We don't even have the slightest idea where Lust could have taken her. And confronting him is useless; I've tried fighting Lust once and you can see how well that ended up for me."

"Trust me, I'll find her," Rebecca said resolutely. "Lust couldn't even take little heat from Mustang; there's no way he stands a chance against Rebecca Catalina."

* * *

It was late when Vanessa woke up—morning hours were beginning to fade into noon. She stirred lazily, her hand groping across the bed for the man who lay on the other side. He was already awake, a middle aged man, clearly handsome once, but looks had faded with age and the stress of his job.

"Sleep well?" she asked, and he looked slightly embarrassed. They always did, for some reason, the morning after.

"Do I just leave the money—"

"On the nightstand will do," she said, slipping back into the clothes she had left discarded on the bedroom floor.

She could hear the jingle of cenz as she got dressed.

"You know what's funny?" the man asked.

"Oh?" She didn't bother looking up.

"Just a little earlier, I happened to notice something was lying next to your coat. I thought maybe your wallet had fallen out of a pocket and I went to put it back. But you know what I found instead." He held up a little black notebook between his index and middle finger.

 _Shit._

"Imagine my surprise on finding such a condensed knowledge of government secrets, military plans accessible to only those of the highest ranks, even carefully transcribed records of a document I hadn't realized had even left my pocket." He smirked. "I don't think I gave you enough credit, Miss Christmas."

 _Shit. Shit. Shit._

"Nor I to you, General Harris," she said, facing him coolly.

"Now I'm sure you realize the gravity of the situation. You'll be charged, and certainly found guilty of espionage, treason… executionable offenses."

She stood up. "Now surely you wouldn't go that far…"

"Take care not to underestimate me again, Miss Christmas."

"Well you already have my book… it's not like I can use any of the information in it now." She leaned in closely, one hand on his face. "Surely we could… work something out?"

He paused for a long moment, centimeters from her, and said with difficulty, "Do you really take me for someone so easily bribed?"

She laughed. "No, but easily distracted, I'll admit to," she said, pulling the trigger of the gun that Harris hadn't noticed her slipping out of the nightstand drawer.

"Sorry, General," she said to the corpse on the bedroom floor. "But I have a personal investment in not being executed."

She took a shower to clean off the mess. There was no way she was going to be able to handle disposing of a dead body when she was still covered in blood and hadn't even had her morning coffee yet. Roy owed her so many favors for everything she had had to put up with this morning.

Roy… he hadn't so much as come visit the bar ever since he had gotten released from the hospital and received that fancy promotion. Honestly, she should have come to see him before now; she and the girls had picked up some pretty good stuff, but she was a little hurt that her baby brother didn't even bother to pick up the phone to let his sister know that he was alright.

He was going to have clean up this mess though, after Vanessa figured out how to clean up the very literal one staining her carpet. Harris was a married man, so he likely hadn't told anyone that he would be visiting the bar. Still, all it would take was someone seeing him slipping in and Vanessa would be in a world of trouble.

Not like this was the first situation like this she had been in. In a line of work like hers, she had learned to keep a gun nearby pretty quickly.

She dialed the bar's number in a hurry, and listened to it ring for a moment until a familiar voice answered.

"Madame Christmas' Bar, how may I—"

"Emily," Vanessa hissed quickly, "It's Vanessa. I'm in a bit of a dilemma right now."

There was a deep sigh on the other end. "Again? You need to be more careful, Nes."

"Look spare me the lecture. Can you help me?"

She could almost see Emily rolling her eyes. "How much did you hurt the poor guy?"

"Well… the situation was pretty bad. He figured out everything and had me cornered…"

"Dammit, Vanessa, you killed him?" Emily sighed. "Give me a minute I'll be over to help. Where are you at?"

Vanessa laughed nervously. "My place?"

" _You took him to your apartment?_ "

She wasn't in the mood for another lecture. "The nearest hotel was closed and I needed that information immediately— I improvised. Look, at least now we don't have to worry about any nosy maids."

There was yet another long suffering sigh from Emily but she promised to be over as quickly as possible. Vanessa cleaned up the best she could, hiding poor General Harris at least until Emily showed up.

Now was time to call Roy. This wasn't the first time one of the girls' exploits had ended badly, and working the bureaucracy to cover it up was just something Roy was going to have to do if he expected them to get him information from unwitting officers.

Still, he wasn't going to be pleased about this one. She dialed the number hesitantly. It rang one, twice, three times until a secretary (apparently Roy Boy's promotion had made him too important to answer his own phone) picked up and gave a rehearsed answer.

"Connect me to General Mustang, please," Vanessa requested before the woman reminded her that she couldn't connect her to him from a civilian line.

"Have him get on one then," she said impatiently. "Tell him it's Nessa and it's urgent."

She waited for a moment, listening to the silence on the other end.

"I'm afraid General Mustang's busy right now. Maybe if you tried connecting to one of his subordinates—"

"I need to speak to _Mustang_ ," she reiterated. "Did you tell him who it was?"

"I did." The woman on the other end was annoyed now. "And as I said, maybe if you tried reaching him through—"

"Yeah." Vanessa hung up the phone. "Alright."

She sat down on the edge of her bed, trying to make sense of it. It wasn't like Roy to blow her off like this, especially if he knew she needed him. This, his absence from the bar, none of it added up. Something big must be going on, something bigger than any of the information he had asked the girls to collect, but what? Vanessa tried to go over everything in her head, all of the secrets she had stolen. It was all a great puzzle, but Vanessa had only ever held pieces at a time, and as she tried to form the picture in her mind, she found herself forgetting the shapes, the colors—

There was a sudden knock at the door and Vanessa bristled immediately; there was no way Emily was here already. Holding the shotgun behind her back with one hand, she opened the door with her other.

The woman in front of her was wearing what looked like a dirty hospital gown, although Vanessa couldn't be sure with some of the fashions she had seen some women wearing in the city; her blonde hair was disheveled, and she looked out of breath, almost like she had run here. Still, she couldn't escape the feeling that she knew her somehow. Sometimes guys brought their girlfriends to the bar, though Vanessa could hardly imagine why, but she couldn't quite picture this woman with that crowd.

"I'm so sorry to disturb you," the woman said, extending her hand and wearing a polite half smile. "I'm Riza Hawkeye. I'm hoping we might be able to help each other."


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Hey everyone! So, it looks like Sunday updates will probably be the thing for this fic. Thank you all for all of the nice comments and reviews and I hope you guys like this chapter (we get a POV from my son Alphonse)! Special thanks to Kate (rizascupcakes on Tumblr) for beta-ing!

* * *

 _Roy knew that it was a bad idea. If Master Hawkeye found them like this, lying on a blanket under the stars with Riza nearly—though not quite—asleep against Roy's chest, he'd be out the next day. But when Riza had burst into his room in the middle of the night, picnic basket on one arm and a blanket slung over the other, eyes aglow with light brighter than the stars that now hung above them and excitedly telling him about a meteor shower that they had to see, he could hardly refuse._

 _When Roy had first come to the house, it was he who would try to initiate the midnight rendezvouses. It wasn't something new to him, even at an awkward fourteen he had been convincing the girls in Central to meet him in the back room of his aunt's bar. But his teacher's stoic daughter was not nearly as receptive to his advances._

 _Riza shifted in his arms a bit as silence seemed to fade into sleep and he couldn't help but pull a strand of moonlit hair away from her eyes._

 _Riza had always been a dreamer, but years of being pulled down by the suffocating emptiness of her surroundings had made it difficult to see the sky above the creaking, splintered ceiling of her home. But as they grew closer over the long, slow years, she had grown up, grown into the beauty and the nature that surrounded them. And he would only have that for so much longer._

 _"Riza," he said in a whisper, half hoping it was quiet enough that she wouldn't stir and the moment could last just a few seconds longer. But her eyelids soon fluttered open and she rolled out of his arm and over in the grass, her face inches from his._

 _"Yes?" she asked sleepily._

 _He sat up, crossing his legs and not quite letting his eyes meet hers. "I haven't told your father this yet," he admitted and she sat up too, raising her eyebrows seriously, "In a week… I'm leaving."_

 _She frowned a little and he knew what she was thinking. "You're going to visit your aunt in Central?"_

 _He found his fingers fiddling with the edges of the blanket beneath them. "No." His heart beat faster and faster and an aching sense guilt seemed to have replaced the oxygen in his lungs. "I mean I'm leaving… permanently. Or maybe not," he added hastily. "My alchemy training isn't complete yet and I want to learn flame alchemy once your father completes his research, but the point is, I've enrolled in a military academy."_

 _He ventured a quick look at her face. To his surprise, Riza seemed undaunted, instead her eyes were down cast and she was outfitted with that somber look of resignation she wore too often._

 _"Well I can see why you waited this long to tell us." She looked up at him again and in a desperate moment brown eyes met black. "Roy, I just don't understand your need to become a soldier. You can do good in so many other places than on the battlefield—"_

 _She was right, he couldn't deny that and for a moment, he mentally fumbled to find the words to describe the fear and the need to protect everything he loved that had torn at his chest for the years since he had seen his parents die. But the words wouldn't come; they couldn't come, he had found after too many failures to vocalize what was inside of him._

 _"I don't expect you to understand, Riza," he said finally. "I'd just… I'd like your support on this. Especially when I have to tell your father that I'm leaving."_

 _She looked above him to the sky and all the stars in their multitudes and he knew that she too looked into the infinity above them to see if it contained the words she needed. After a moment, she laughed. "I don't suppose there's anything I can say to convince you otherwise?"_

 _He had to stop the "yes" before it escaped his lips and instead shook his head resolutely._

 _"Well then of course I'll support you," she said with a soft smile, taking his hands into her smaller ones and leaning in to kiss him._

 _And at least for one starlit evening, framed by the distant light of a thousand worlds, all seemed to be right._

* * *

The tile floor of the hospital's waiting room made a loud clicking sound as the armor hit it. Al watched his swinging feet blankly as the heel of his empty foot collided with the flooring again and again. _Clink. Clink._ It was a meaningless distraction, and not even his preferred one. When Al was little and his mother would take him to the slightly larger village outside of Risembool, he had loved to people watch. It was so easy, so fascinating to allow himself to become consumed with the worlds outside himself, with a hustle and bustle of people either unaware or uncaring of the existence of narratives outside their own.

But things weren't that simple anymore. Al stared at the floor to avoid the frightened or confused stares, the reminder that he was gaudy enough to, for that moment, break into someone else's routine as a curiosity.

"Sorry about that," said a nurse with closely cropped brunette hair. She eyed his armor uncomfortably, smiling out of politeness, not pleasure. "Visiting hours just began now."

Al glanced over to Ed, who was inspecting some pamphlets on medicinal alchemy on the other side of the room. He looked up and joined Al.

"So did Lieutenant Havoc say _why_ he wanted to meet with us?" he said, meeting Al in a stride through the hallways.

It had been a woman who had actually called. A Lieutenant… something. Al had been so taken aback by the break neck speed at which she spoke and that he had barely taken in the message to come by Havoc's hospital room. "Maybe he just wants to see us," he said thoughtfully. "He's probably getting lonely after so long." Al couldn't help feel a little guilty. Havoc had been injured on the same mission from hell that had badly damaged Al's armor. But it was Al's false, hollow tomb of a body that could be easily repaired with some alchemy from Ed. Havoc's ruined spine could not be mended with such luxuries.

"You know it's not going to be that simple," Ed said and had Al been able, he would have gulped in apprehension. But Ed was right. Things with them never were.

Havoc wasn't alone when they met him. Rather, he was accompanied by the woman who had called Al.

"Second Lieutenant Catalina," she said cheerfully. "But you boys can call me Rebecca. Now you," she said to Al, "must be Ed, the Fullmetal Alchemist. And you-"

But Ed cut her off, seething. "I'm. The. Full. Metal. Alchemist," he said, pointedly emphasizing each syllable.

Rebecca's eyes widened in surprise. "But Jean you told me that the metal one was-"

Havoc laughed. "Well, I can't resist a chance to piss Ed off, can I?"

"If you weren't an invalid I'd kick your ass for that," Ed growled, the seething anger emanating from so small of a body seeming more comical than threatening.

Lieutenant Havoc seemed to be doing well, Al noted as the two argued back and forth. He was no longer bedridden, as he had been when Al had last seen him, and seemed to be adjusting to a wheelchair. Al suspected that it wouldn't be long until he checked out, moving permanently to his family's shop in the south. The finality hurt a little. So many stories cut short, dreams ended before anyone was ready.

"So Lieutenant Havoc," he said finally. "Was there a reason you wanted to speak with us?"

Havoc and Rebecca's faces grew grim.

"Have either of you tried to speak to Mustang recently?"

* * *

" _Lust?_ " said Al incredulously. "But Mustang—"

"I know," Havoc said grimly. "But she— well, _he_ I suppose— is back. We don't know how."

Ed took a deep breath, standing to pace back and forth. "So to recap, Mustang killed Lust and a few days later was mysteriously changed _into_ her, as well as being promoted to General and having his team scattered across the country."

"And appointing Riza to his personal assistant," Rebecca added.

"Which somehow ended with her jumping out the window, being hospitalized, and then kidnapped?"

There were two nods.

"So as far as we know, she's still trapped," Al said grimly.

"Which makes our first priority getting her back before she's killed," said Rebecca. _Or meets the same fate as Mustang,_ they all thought, but wouldn't say.

"Which is where we come in," Ed concluded.

Havoc nodded guiltily. "I know you boys have had a lot on your plates lately, but now that Falman, Breda, and Fuery are out of the picture, there's not really many people we can trust. And I'm not exactly the most mobile of assets—"

"And I don't know the first thing about alchemy or these homunculi," Rebecca admitted.

Ed stopped pacing to face them dead on. "Of course we'll help. Lieutenant Hawkeye would never turn her back on us and I'm sure as hell not abandoning her." An unspoken reality hung between them all, the bloodstained memory of Hughes. The refusal to abandon anyone else who might be saved.

Al's giant steel fists clenched as he looked up. "So what's the plan?"

* * *

Riza Hawkeye took her coffee black. Vanessa knew the blonde's name had been familiar and she had finally been able to place her as Roy's elusive correspondent, Elizabeth. At first, she did her the service of not questioning the woman's state of disarray, a courtesy in exchange for Riza not questioning the blood that still stained Vanessa's fingernails. But Riza knew what Vanessa did for a living and Vanessa still had so many questions—about Roy, about all of it—so when Riza finally seemed to have settled in with her drink, she pulled up a chair and demanded, "Fill me in."

Riza took a thoughtful sip before launching into her explanation of all that occurred since Vanessa had left Roy's hospital room the week before. As horrified as she was, she had to stifle a bitter laugh. Her baby brother really did have a knack for getting himself knee deep in shit.

"So, Lust told you he was dead so you attacked him but—"

"Lust lied." Riza stared into her mug. "He's still in there."

"Which makes everything a hell of a lot more complicated," Vanessa mused. _Oh Roy—_ "So the question is…"

She didn't finish her sentence and Riza didn't ask her to. They were both all too aware of the choice they had.

"There has to… There has to be some kind of a way to separate them, right? To kill Lust without hurting Roy."

"Maybe…" Riza mused. "I grew up around alchemy but I never learned anything about the homunculi. And even if there is a way… that field of alchemy is so unexplored, who knows if the resources we need even exist. Maybe we could find them… but we could be wasting valuable time."

Vanessa stood up, walking over to face the light green walls of her apartment, to look anywhere other than the other woman's face.

"Or maybe— you said he could take control sometimes, right? What if we were able to weaken Lust enough that Roy could take control over his body permanently?"

"Perhaps." Riza pursed her lips doubtfully. Vanessa knew she was only humoring her, that Riza understood as well as she did, untrained in alchemy as they were, what the reality of their situation was.

She could still remember, with the haziness of an eight year old's memory, when she had first met Roy. He hadn't been her brother then, just a cousin she had never met, tied only through the blood that her mother shared with his formerly mysteriously elusive and then suddenly dead father. He had seemed cold then, in a way a five year old shouldn't, in a way that seemed to match more whatever he had become than the boy she remembered growing up with.

Vanessa hadn't known much back then but she had known that he needed family. She didn't understand what it really meant when she was told her cousin had seen her aunt and uncle die. Absence had always been a choice for her; she had never met her father because he had chosen not to be there, or her mother had chosen for him not to know. Family had always been forged by choice, and nature's ability to give and take had never seemed important.

And so he was her family. Cousin by blood, brother by choice. And that was what mattered to her.

"I guess we know what he would want us to do," she said quietly and she could hear Riza sigh behind her, the defeated sound of a woman who had known the truth but wished more than anything to be contradicted. "It's a good thing that I'm his older sister then," she continued with a smirk. "I'm not going to listen to what he wants to do."

Riza grinned, relief flooding her features. Out of some hopeless, suicidal, yet inexplicably human determination, they weren't ready to give up on Roy.

Not yet.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Thank you to Kate (rizascupcakes on Tumblr) for beta-ing.

* * *

General Mustang seemed to be working late. As the night sky grew dimmer, the two boys standing outside of Central HQ watched one by one the lights of the marble building flicker off and soldiers and secretaries alike exit until at last a familiar figure, firmly built and shorter than some of its compatriots, exited as well.

The smaller of the two, reclining against the side of the building and obscured by shadow, motioned to his brother, further back so as to not be noticed, to follow along.

Al knew that he wasn't an ideal candidate for a mission like this, one that required stealth and obscurity, but to be fair, neither was Ed, although that had more to do with temperament than build. But they were working with limited resources; even Rebecca had admitted that her guns wouldn't be much help against a homunculus if things got hairy and there was no way Al was going to allow his only brother to trail Lust into the homunculus' lair alone.

They followed the homunculus through city streets and alleyways, Ed always at least ten paces behind, Al twenty. Lust glanced behind him and Al stiffened. Although the waning light obscured their features, newly lit streetlights cast elongated shadows and Al's own vast outline wasn't exactly forgettable. Neither of the boys knew how much of the former Colonel's memories Lust retained. Neither knew if Lust was already well aware of whom he strode in front of.

The Brigadier General darted his head from side to side and ducked into an alleyway. Al crossed the street to watch straight on from a distance while Ed stood in wait around the corner. Lust fiddled for a moment with a steel gateway and then entered the oncoming darkness. Al looked up at an illuminated street sign, committing it to memory and walked across the street to meet Ed.

So this was the place. Beyond that hatched door lay the headquarters of those who had caused them so much trouble: the beings who had kidnapped Lieutenant Hawkeye, stripped Mustang of his autonomy, murdered Hughes—

Al could tell that Ed's thoughts paralleled his own by the narrowed, determined look in his eyes, the desperate clenching of his fist. "We need to go in there," Ed said resolutely.

Well, almost paralleled. Had Al had lungs, he would have sighed in exasperation.

"Brother," he said patronizingly. "That's not the plan. We needed to find out where the homunculi were hiding and then tell Rebecca and Lieutenant Havoc so we can—"

"But we still don't know whether Lieutenant Hawkeye is still in there!" Ed argued. "If we wait any longer she could be dead. We need to do something now, Al. Don't you want those bastards to answer for something at least? Don't you want—"

The display of passion came to an end as words, anything Ed could use to verbalize the feeling inside of him, seemed inadequate. But as Ed stared at his younger brother, eyes narrowed and filled with anger and righteous pain, he needn't have finished his sentence. Al understood. Empty and unfeeling as this hollow shell of a body was, something like a heart still ached inside of him.

He had not had time to collect his thoughts, to verbalize either his agreement or dissent—he had not yet decided on which—when Ed thrust the gate open with a hollow creak.

* * *

Lust knew that he was being followed. Roy could tell by the quickened pace, the irregular _thud_ of his heartbeat, the looks from side to side. From his distant, barely manifested space in Lust's mind, he laughed. It seemed that even homunculi got nervous. Although Lust had no idea as to the identity of his pursuers, Roy could have recognized the sharp edges of Alphonse Elric's profile lurking across the street anywhere.

He hoped those boys knew what they were doing.

He tried to think about anything other than the boys' identities. In this disembodied purgatory, thought was as dangerous as confession, with Lust picking apart his mind, anxiously grasping onto any information Roy could give him. The more he knew, the more memories of Roy's he obtained, the more the distinction between man and monster began to blur, until eventually Roy's soul, his individuality, already worn and frayed, would cease to exist and Lust would have unlimited access to the fruits of a career built on secrets.

It was an art, keeping his mind completely blank, to retain but not analyze the wealth of information he heard on a daily basis, to think of nothing until he was certain Lust could not hear him, when at last he would begin to plot.

Lust stopped abruptly in his stride, turning in the vast tunnels to face where he had entered. A pinpoint of light shot across the blackened tunnel as the door creaked open and dread washed over all that was left of Roy's soul.

Edward Elric, illuminated by the waning light of the outdoors like the god sent fool he was, stood at the other end of the tunnel.

"Mustang!" he shouted into the void. "You asshole; I know you're in there."

Roy— Lust walked leisurely to meet the boy. "Now I don't believe we've met," he said coolly.

"Oh spare me the bullshit," Fullmetal spat, transmuting the usual blade on the edge of his automail into existence.

Now this was an interesting predicament. By now, Roy knew all too well of the details of the requirements for human sacrifices. The homunculi had already suffered a loss when they had turned him into Lust—and he had only been a candidate. Fullmetal, long out of the gate and having paid his toll, was exactly what they needed, far too valuable to loose in a petty squabble. So what could Lust possibly stand to gain by fighting him, other than incapacitating him which was risky in itself. Surely he couldn't really mean to fight—

His thoughts were cut short when Lust slashed his long talons at the boy, which he blocked with his blade.

This time, Roy didn't bother trying to conceal his thoughts. _You idiot,_ he spat into Lust's subconscious.

 _Don't pretend you know so much better than me,_ Lust's infuriated reply shot back.

Beyond the flurry of motion preoccupying Lust, Roy saw a second, larger, figure appear in the gateway. Lust, too busy with his glorified fencing match against Fullmetal or perhaps too ignorant in the specifics of the Elrics' special brand of post-gate alchemy, didn't notice Al clapping his hands and transmuting the ground beneath them, sending a ripple of stone that Fullmetal, expecting his brother's move, rode easily and that sent Lust flying against the wall.

Detached as he was from his body, it still hurt Roy a little. He laughed spitefully. With his luck, it figured that when he lost autonomy he would still retain the ability to feel pain. But Lust, immortal and determined, was not so easily thwarted. A flash of his talons tore steel as if it was papier mache from the boy's armor, but it didn't deter Al's heavy fist from colliding with the side of his face.

"Colonel Mustang!" Al said sternly, more commanding than angry like his brother. "Lieutenant Havoc told us he talked to you. You're stronger than Lust, you can overpower him—"

The situation was bad. Although Roy _could_ overpower Lust, Al's faith in him was undeserved. The process of gaining control was arduous, requiring Roy to save up every bit of energy he could for days ahead, to only gain autonomy for a few minutes at most. Even his momentary exchange with Havoc had robbed him of energy and will for days and the process saving Riza had been the strongest blow that reduced him to his current state of semi existence.

He wasn't sure what choice he had at the moment however. Strong as they were, the Elrics had a limited understanding of homunculi, and Lust, being recently born, was at his peak strength. They were outmatched in ways they could only begin to understand and neither of them were ones to retreat from a fight. If Roy didn't take control and get them out of there the best case scenario he could imagine was that they would be apprehended and held captive so they could serve their role as sacrifices when the Promised Day came without wreaking havoc on the homunculi's plans in the meantime. The worst case scenario—Roy stopped himself from thinking further. He had lived through too many worst case scenarios to allow the situation to reach that point.

Lust rose again and ran back into the fray as Roy tried to shut himself off, to cease the effort of existing for short enough a time to not slip away forever, but long enough to have collected enough strength to reemerge stronger than ever.

Several things happened at once.

Perhaps Roy had had more of an effect on Lust than he had realized, that the battle it took each moment to live, to exist in that fragmented, blurred state had been subtly subduing the homunculus. Perhaps it was merely unfortunate timing.

It hardly mattered.

Letting go felt like sleep. It had been weeks since Roy had had anything of the sort and although he knew better, he imagined that the slow sounds, the distanced sensations were what is was like to dream. He fell through black and red and something felt warm, inviting. Perhaps—perhaps—he didn't need to ever wake up.

Blood.

Roy knew it anywhere. There had been too many months in Ishval to not recognize the warm, pulsing liquid. It still choked him as he forced himself back into consciousness.

Lust's spears—Roy's hands—were soaked with a dull, biting red. Roy looked frantically for a wound, and the reason it hadn't yet healed. All of this time waiting, hoping for Lust to die, and yet he was still possessed with that insatiable instinct of all things living to survive.

It took him a moment to notice that the wound was not his own. It took him a moment to notice that Lust's ebony talons had torn through Edward Elric's chest.


	8. Chapter 8

It wasn't the worst case scenario. No, Roy Mustang's imagination was far more practiced than that. And yet somehow, this was more grim of a situation than he ever could allow himself to _believe_ would happen.

Lust retracted the talon and Roy realized, with an eerie disassociation, that he had control of the hands the boy's crumpled body fell into. He wasn't sure how or when he had forced himself into control of his body, it was an action born of necessity and pure adrenaline rather than any conscious determination. Lust screamed and struggled in the darkest recesses of his mind but it was drowned out by the strangely calming rhythmic thud of two heartbeats.

Things seemed to happen very slowly. In his hands, Edward's figure seemed somehow smaller than ever. He heard distantly, as if from a dream, Al scream his brother's name.

Roy thrust the barely breathing alchemist into his brother's giant hands.

"Go, Al," he gasped. Lust's voice was growing louder and his hands clutched at his temple, trying to concentrate. "Get help, I'll hold him off—"

But not for much longer, he realized as his knees buckled from underneath him. The sudden burst of strength could clearly only serve him for so long and his entire body collapsed uselessly against the floor. The hollow thud of Al's footprints sprinted into the distance and Roy stayed there, tense and covered in someone else's blood on the stone floor, and muttered a one word prayer to a god he did not believe in before he faded back into familiar nothingness.

 _Please…_

* * *

Lust was going to die. Presumably it would have happened eventually, immortality was a less realistic concept for immortals than one might have imagined, but he had hoped to work to at least a few centuries, maybe even millennia, before he met his end. Not two fucking weeks.

He had certainly made some mistakes in his short existence. The blonde lieutenant had escaped from him twice, he had left a witness behind at the hospital, and Mustang had gotten the better of him more than once, but these were forgivable. This was not.

Father sat unblinkingly in his stone chair, seemingly indifferent. But Lust was not so ignorant. His creator's purging of vice had left a cool exterior but no creature could be truly devoid of sin. The traces of greed, pride, gluttony, lust, sloth, envy, and most alarmingly for Lust, wrath, still had their grip on the very core of his being.

"Tell me, Lust," Father began. "Has there been a sudden new trend of human transmutation among alchemists?"

"Uh… no." Lust said flatly.

"Then _why_ did you find our human sacrifices so dispensable that they could simply be disposed of at your every whim?"

Lust gulped. "The Elric brothers trailed me here. When they arrived, they tried to fight me and I determined that the best course of action would be to capture them and hold them here like we did Marcoh until they could be made useful on the Promised Day."

Father looked dubious. "And that involved stabbing them somehow?"

"My plan was to incapacitate them well enough that I could easily take them to you, have them healed, and then keep them here."

"Not a bad plan in itself," Father stroked his chin thoughtfully. "What I'm more curious about is your inability to carry it out."

Father already knew what had happened. Lust could see in the mocking, dangerous look in his eyes.

"Mustang—" he began.

"Ah," Father said. "Mustang. Certainly glad you told me you were able to get that little problem under control. If you hadn't, well Lieutenant Hawkeye escaping, Gluttony's death, _this_ whole little incident would be your fault, wouldn't it?"

Lust suddenly couldn't meet his father's eyes. "That—that idiot wanted to save Elric. He managed to gain control for a few moments, enough to allow the armored one to escape with his brother."

"Unknowingly sealing Edward Elric's fate by allowing him to die on the way to the hospital rather than being healed by me. _Humans_ ," Father muttered disdainfully. "They flaunt these concepts of love and loyalty and this is what it gets them."

"The Fullmetal Alchemist," Lust said quickly. "He might still survive. I don't know what happened after—"

"Unlikely," Father said dismissively. "But I'll have Envy find out and report to me later. What I'm most concerned about is what to do about you."

"Father, I—"

Father waved his hand to silence him. "The Flame Alchemist still has the potential to be too great of an asset to waste. But you cannot allow him to overpower you any longer. I'm taking you out of action, out of the public eye, for the time being. Wrath can make excuses for you. You are to stay here and focus your every energy on destroying any individuality that still exists between the two of you. Do not stop until his every memory, every secret becomes your own."

"Of course!" Lust said, relieved. "It will only be a matter of time, I promise."

"And Lust."

"Yes?"

"Do not disappoint me again."

* * *

Jean had called Rebecca earlier than she had expected. She had been up, flicking through a magazine on the hotel's bed as she so often did these days. The mindlessness was the distraction she needed, a relief from those moments of empty awareness before sleep, where she had nothing better than to remember the disaster that surrounded them.

"I think you should come to the hospital now," Jean had told her. "The Elrics… came back."

"Already?" They hadn't expected to hear from the boys until the following morning. It was well past visiting hours at the hospital as it was.

"Rebecca…" Jean's voice broke a little on the other end of the phone. "Something went wrong. "

By the time she had arrived at the hospital, all pretense that were was still any fight to be had had been cleared away. The halls were quieter than ever at midnight, yet somehow the emptiness, the realization of all that had been lost here, was enough to drown out all thought. Jean sat in his wheelchair outside of one of the doors, his hands firmly grasping the wheels in a state of tension and his eyes downcast. He looked up when he saw Rebecca and smiled weakly.

"I could really use a smoke right about now."

Matching his expression, Rebecca stepped into Jean's hospital room and pulled the pack from his dresser.

"They only let me have one a day in here," he told her, taking one.

She didn't respond, lighting one herself. "Where's Alphonse?"

"In there. With Ed." Jean nodded at the door adjacent to them.

"I'm such an idiot." The cigarette smoke choked her and she pulled it away from her lips hastily. "I should have gone with them. Who knows what would have happened if there had been three of us."

"You would have died too," guessed Jean. "You're forgetting that I also tried to fight Lust. People like us… you have no idea how out of our league we are, Becca. Those things think they're fucking gods and really I can't blame them. Alchemists like the Chief, like Ed, we call them human weapons because they're the most dangerous thing we have. All of human advancement and science at its finest and they were barely even a threat."

Rebecca turned to face him, arms crossed and brows furrowed. "You sound like you want to give up."

"Don't you?" Jean twirled the cigarette between his fingers, the long shadows under his eyes exaggerated by its dim light. "Just a little bit?"

She ventured another try at the cigarette. Fire seemed to writhe in her throat but she managed to exhale without coughing this time. "Hell no. If anything, I know more than ever why I need to keep fighting. They've done something irredeemably, horribly wrong and the last thing I can do is allow myself to sit idly by and let them get away with it. _Especially_ because for all I know, Riza might still be being held captive by them."

She crushed the cigarette between her fingers.

"And maybe I'm just a human, without alchemy or immortality on my side. I'm not the best or the brightest but I do have something to my advantage. Maybe I can't defeat them and maybe I'll die trying but it won't be without taking someone down with me, not without making their lives a little more miserable."

"Me too."

They both turned to see the jagged silhouette of Alphonse Elric facing them through the doorway.

"Al…" Jean began, but the boy shook his head, turning to Rebecca.

"Me too. I want to save Lieutenant Hawkeye… I want to make them pay for what they did to my brother. For years I've been trying to get rid of this body. I thought that the immortality it gave me meant nothing if it robbed me of what made me human. But right now I don't care because there's a chance that this might put me on the same level as them. If you let me help you, we might actually stand a chance at defeating them, or at least giving them what they deserve."

"Al," Jean began, "you're upset. Right now, you don't want to be too hasty or let your emotions get the better of you. You know Ed wouldn't want that—"

A long shadow fell across the fourteen year old's face. "How do you know that? You've seen what these people have done. Ed wanted them defeated just as much as I do."

"But not like this. He wouldn't want you to give up on yourself."

Al turned away for a long moment before glancing over his shoulder. "Lieutenant Catalina. Rebecca. Are you with me?"

She looked at Jean before saying anything, smoke and unspoken words filling the air between them. She looked up to Alphonse.

"Yes. Of course."


	9. Chapter 9

_Roy tripped over yet another pile of books, and the dust that had lain there for months undisturbed rose into the air, covering the room with an uneasy haze._

 _The rest of his late master's house had been kept in decent condition, as it had been when Roy knew it best, but the upper story, Berthold Hawkeye's abode, seemed to have aged and decayed as poorly as its former resident._

 _Riza looked at him apologetically through the dust. "He wouldn't even let me up here, near the end. And right after he had died it didn't seem right to change things so soon."_

 _"_ _Of course," Roy said, a tad uncomfortably, the history of all that had taken place in these four walls hanging between them. He looked around. "So, is it here?"_

 _Riza smiled grimly. "Just about."_

 _Roy coughed a little. "I uh… I just wanted to say that I'm honored that you would trust me with your father's research. Over all his old apprentices, I mean."_

 _Riza shook her head. "It wasn't even a contest. You're the only one who wouldn't abuse this for your own gain. And you're the only one I would trust to see the… medium of the research." She cut him off before he could open his mouth to question that last part. "I know you intend to be a state alchemist and I have my own feelings about the military. But whatever happens, I know that your intentions are good and right now, that's the most I can ask for."_

 _"_ _I want to use this to help people," Roy said earnestly. "I want to protect—"_

 _"_ _I know," she said. "But Roy… I need you to know that this might not be quite what you were expecting._

 _"_ _What do you mean?"_

 _She closed her eyes, and to his horror, he could see her eyelashes beginning to dampen._

 _"_ _Turn around," she whispered._

 _He blinked. "What?"_

 _"_ _Or close your eyes. Whichever." A pause. "Just trust me."_

 _Slowly and dubiously, he turned his back on the girl._

 _"_ _Alright. You can look now."_

* * *

"Are you sure these were the best you could do?" The brunette snapped the book shut with a thud.

Riza sighed, slowly turning an age stained page of another tome. "I told you, only State Alchemists are allowed to access the really high profile alchemy texts. That's where any of the really good information on homunculi would be, if there is any. Frankly, with the homunculi after me, I'm surprised I was even able to get away with checking out these books."

Frustrated, Vanessa tossed her head against the back of her chair, staring up at the ceiling. "Okay, so then we get a State Alchemist to check out the good shit for us. Right?"

Riza shut her eyes slowly. "Because we've got the military's full support on this, right? Because we have so many allies in State Alchemy department?"

"Okay okay sheesh. No need to get so testy. Can you really not think of anyone who might be willing to work with us on this?" Vanessa paused for a moment. "Besides Roy obviously."

Riza opened her mouth only to pause for a moment. "Well… maybe. I'm sure the Elric brothers would want to help and I know we can trust them but…"

Vanessa lifted her head up. "But what?"

"I'm just a little hesitant to reach out to anyone right now. I had figured coming to you would be safe enough because the homunculi had no reason to think I would contact you, but I haven't tried to communicate with anyone else since I escaped. And not just for selfish reasons," she added quickly. "If they managed to get a hold of me… I have information that would allow them to turn someone else into the same kind of weapon they forced the General to be. You know I can't allow that to happen just because of my own selfish sentimentality."

Vanessa rose, not quite meeting Riza's eyes as she walked across the room to pour herself another glass of coffee. "I understand," she said softly and Riza could see an emptiness in her eyes, memories of everything Roy must have told his sister about the realities of Flame Alchemy, the truth about the military, and reason why he needed to dedicate his life to taking it down. "So how about I contact these Elric guys instead? I can bring them up to speed on what's going on and why we need their help and no one has to know that you have anything to do with it, huh?"

Carefully maintained fingernails rhythmically tapped the arm of her chair as Riza, frowning, tried to find a flaw in the plan. She laughed. "Alright then. Go ahead. I'm not quite sure where you're going to be able to reach them though; they travel so much."

"Not a problem," Vanessa said with a leisurely smirk. "I'm sure one of the girls know something." Now this was her element: a world of scandal and hidden secrets all at her fingertips, just waiting to be pieced together and exposed. She picked up the phone and dialed quickly. After a few long rings she heard the click of an answering machine. "Hey Emily, I need some information. A number to reach… um…"

"Edward Elric," Riza said helpfully.

"An Edward Elric," said Vanessa. "Call me back when you get this. Thanks."

After depositing the phone on the sofa, she plopped down next to it, grabbing a notepad and pencil.

"Okay now in the meantime, fill me in. You know I'm woefully ignorant about alchemy and browsing through a library's worth of material has told me squat. I need to know everything you know about what we're up against."

"I already told you; I'm not an alchemist," Riza explained. "I don't know anything about homunculi."

Vanessa gave a long suffering sigh. "Oh come on, you're forgetting that you're talking to Roy's sister here. I had to listen him talk for hours that glorified alchemy summer camp he spent with your dad, about what a great alchemist this Hawkeye guy was and cool and smart his daughter was—"

Riza couldn't help but laugh. "Did he really say that?"

"You bet your ass. Poor kid was in deep; he wouldn't shut up about you. So come on, Alchemy Girl, there's no way you could have gotten away with having an alchemy master as a father and living with that over excited 15 year old alchemy nerd and escaped unscathed."

"It's not that simple." Riza picked up another book and flipped it open. "My father's work, and what General Mustang would have studied, was mostly elemental. His work was completely devoted to creating fire, not life forms."

"Meaning…"

"Meaning that you're basically asking someone who devoted their life to chemistry about biology. Sure there's some overlap, but they're not going to be able to tell you anything complicated. This," she ran her fingers through her dirty blonde hair, "this is complicated."

"Give me the basics then." Vanessa persisted.

Riza flipped through potentially helpful chapter of the text in front of her in contemplation. "Homunculi are artificial human beings, meaning they have the same makings as the rest of us: blood, a heart, a brain, but with one key difference: they lack a soul."

"You didn't strike me for the spiritual type," Vanessa commented.

"I'm not. I'm a scientist's daughter, so I was taught to think rationally. The proof is in the pudding; if human beings don't have souls, if all there is inside of us is a bunch of tissue and chemicals, then there should be no reason human transmutation shouldn't work. Any alchemist worth his salt can assemble the ingredients of a human body, the fact that it fails shows that there is something even alchemy can't create. But it sure can try and that's how homunculi receive their power: from an artificial soul. Based on what General Mustang and Lieutenant Havoc have told me, a philosopher's stone: thousands of souls trapped together in an effort to create a real one."

"Waitwaitwait," Vanessa interjected. "So Roy, which one would he have? A soul or a stone?"

"Well I suppose—huh." Riza frowned. "Both maybe? I would imagine that as the philosopher's stone grew more powerful, the soul would grow weaker, maybe assimilating the soul as another one of the fragmented pieces in the stone."

"So if we could destroyed the stone—"

"Then we'd likely also be destroying a part of his soul as well as Lust. If we got it early enough, it might be okay, but at this point, we don't know how much of him hasn't already assimilated. He could be comatose for the rest of his life." But Riza could see the scared, sad look in the other woman's eyes and hastened to add, "This is just hypothetical of course. Like I said, I have no idea the soul versus stone thing works. Homunculi in general were already out of my depth and I don't have any information on turning a human into one. There's a lot of possibilities here; that's why we need more research material."

Before Vanessa could reply, the phone rang and she picked it up in a hurry. "Emily, right on time! No, no worries. Did you get the information I asked for? Okay…" She frowned, walking back to the counter and leaning against it. "Oh… oh my god. Alright thank you, Emily." She the phone down with a click. "Riza… I don't think we're going to be getting that research anytime soon."

Riza suddenly notice that she was clutching her book much more tightly than before. "Why not?"

Vanessa stared at her living room floor with a sudden avid interest.

" _Why not, Vanessa?_ "

"Edward Elric—he's dead."

* * *

If there was one thing Envy hated, it was being stuck on guard duty. For one, it was completely pointless. No one knew where they were located and if they did, they sure as hell weren't in a hurry to come back anytime soon. Despite the number of co-conspirators and prisoners they had housed over the past few centuries, the homunculi's headquarters were hardly up to hospitality regulations. On top of that, there were the chimeras guarding the stone tunnel.

No, Envy knew they were roaming the empty labyrinth beneath the city more out of their Father's obsession with power plays than any real need for safety. The last thing they expected was to see a dark figure looming in the distance.

"Sloth?" they called out apprehensively. It didn't really make any sense for the gigantic homunculus to be in Central rather than hollowing out giant tunnels around the country, but given the shape's size and figure, it was the only conceivable possibility. The giant in the distance did not reply, instead walking closer and closer and Envy strained to make out their identity.

" _Elric?_ "

Alphonse Elric raised his hands in mock surrender. "I'm not here to fight."

Envy raised a thin eyebrow. "Is that so?" As unaware of the practices of humans as they would like to be, experience had taught them too much about human nature to buy that Al's brother's death would do anything less that prompt a series of foolish, violent, emotionally charged decisions.

"I just don't want anyone else to get hurt. You need me right? For this whole 'human sacrifice' thing? Well fine. I'm happy to comply with whatever your people need as long as you stop hurting people."

Interesting. Unexpected, but not inherently unbelievable. "I'm going to need to take you to my Father," they said skeptically.

"Your…" Al shook his head. "Okay. Alright. Sure."

Envy motioned for Al to follow behind them, unable to escape the feeling that something about the way the younger Elric brother walked seemed off. As the party got closer to the center of the labyrinth, another familiar figure appeared.

"Hey Wrath!" Envy called. "What are you doing down here?"

"I need to confer with Father about this ridiculous Lust situation." The man said irritably. "How on earth am I supposed to explain away the sudden disappearance of one of our top ranked officials?"

" _Fuhrer Bradley?_ " Even in the emotionless husk of his armor, Al's confusion and horror were eminent.

"Alphonse Elric!" Wrath said with a good natured smile. "Didn't expect to see you around here."

"Kid wanted to turn himself in. Didn't want anyone else to get hurt after his brother—" Envy completed the statement with a vicious one fingered slash across their throat and a twisted smile.

Wrath nodded. "Very reasonable. I always thought the boy had a good head on his shoulders. Terribly sorry about Fullmetal though," he said to Al.

The 14 year old alchemist had stopped in his tracks. "I don't understand. What are—what are you doing here? You know about all this?"

"Well I don't supposed there's any harm in you knowing anymore." Bradley strode up to the boy, and with a wicked grin, removed his eye patch.

The boy winced at first, clearly expecting horrifically scarred tissue, but then stared in abject horror at the ouroboros that outfitted the Fuhrer's eye.

"You're one of them." His voice shook. "The man who was supposed to protecting our country, who I put my faith in, _who my brother sold his life to._ For how long? FOR HOW LONG?"

Wrath only smiled.

"Oh." Alphonse turned away for a moment, seeming to collect himself.

"We should probably—" Envy began.

"Rebecca?" Al whispered. "Now please."


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Sorry for not updating last week! I had a super busy weekend and figured that I might as well just postpose updating until this weekend. I hope you guys enjoy!

* * *

The inside of the armor smelled a bit like rust and it had gotten bad enough that Rebecca had been plugging her nose for most of the ordeal. Perhaps at a more appropriate time, she would have a little conversation with Al about personal hygiene.

She still wasn't sure if this was the right choice. She remembered Jean's words to her after Al had left.

 _"_ _If he goes now, he's going to be too preoccupied with hatred and revenge to do any real good. You're a soldier too, Rebecca, you know that. He's only going to come out of this hating himself."_

 _Rebecca hadn't been able to quite meet his eyes. "We need to take them down Jean, after what they did."_

 _"_ _It doesn't matter what we need to do if that thing is impossible! Especially for a scared kid like him." He had argued as she helped him back into the hospital bed. "You heard what he said; he's a fourteen year old and he's not mentally prepared for this! He needs to be taken somewhere safe, not set loose on the battlefield, and you're just enabling him."_

 _"_ _So what am I supposed to do?" she shot back. She sat on the edge of his cot. "He's going to go whether I like it or not; you know as well as I do that we can't stop him. The least I can do is come along to make sure he's safe. I can't fail him like I did before."_

 _"_ _Rebecca…" She felt a familiar heat of his hand on hers. She pulled away quickly._

 _"_ _You don't have the right." She said. "And besides, this is hardly the time."_

 _For a moment, his eyes betrayed his hurt and she almost felt bad but he quickly recovered. "I told you, you can't blame yourself for what happened. And if you go out there this time…"_

 _"_ _It's not like I'm planning on getting myself killed," she said defensively._

 _"_ _Really? Because I know Al is," he snapped. "And you don't seem to have a problem with that."_

 _"_ _He's hurting, Jean! He lost someone he loves and this is how real people react! We hurt, we're angry, we lash out when we shouldn't… I can't stop him from doing that. It's human nature."_

 _"_ _What is this really about?" he asked. "You're too smart for this, Becca. There has to be something else eating you here. Please… please tell me it's not what I think it is."_

 _She didn't answer._

 _He sighed. "Do you think I wasn't hurting too? When I left? It was a transfer— it's not like I chose to go—" Emotion, that thing that ties the tongues of the greatest orators, ended his plea._

 _"_ _I know Jean; I'm being stupid about this, I know." She was finally able to look him in the eye. "Just let me be stupid alright? Just let me be stupid and hurt. I've been bottling up too much these last months and I—"_

 _When he kissed her, she hardly noticed it at first. It was too familiar, like seeing the same blurry face on your everyday commute to work. But it was in that breezy familiarity that she realized exactly what she had been looking for these past few months as she tried to forget, tried to find any other reason for emptiness. This was it, the ease of his lips on hers, the delicate brush of his fingers through her hair, this was the drug that she had stupidly forgotten to—no, chosen not to—quit._

 _"_ _I already told you," She was only half surprised when her voice choked over the words. "This isn't the time."_

 _"_ _I know." He said, but he didn't let go. "Just let me be stupid too."_

He had agreed with her in the end. She knew that as much as they might try, there was no way they could talk Al down from his revenge plot; all she could do was try to keep him safe and calm the fury that welled within his hollow façade of a body, to try to protect the little boy who had become nothing more than a broken soul.

 _"_ _Rebecca?" Al whispered. "Now please."_

Embarrassingly to her profession and purpose, she hadn't been paying much attention to the context surrounding the request, too shocked at the revelation of the Fuhrer's identity and consumed by her own purpose in this mission. But it was all she needed to spring into action, guns being shot in rapid succession before she had even made eye contact with her targets. Perhaps this haze of metal and death wasn't the careful precision that had earned the likes of Riza Hawkeye their reputation, but it was the only way Rebecca Catalina would have it.

Her gun, propped in the slit between Al's helmet and the rest of his armor, was able to shoot forth an armada of bullets as she stayed in the relative safety of the steel cocoon. Amid the action, she could make out the confusion of the two homunculi as the rapid succession tore at their constantly reforming skin in addition to the brute force of Al's own alchemy, shaking the very earth beneath them. Between concentrating on her aim and staying aware of the action around her, Rebecca was almost—almost able to ignore the lingering thought in the back of her mind, the terrifying awareness of the futility of the fight, the sheer audacity of a woman with flesh as vulnerable and bones as breakable as her own to dare to fight these monsters who could be torn and broken and still continue to fight back with only the slightest of inconveniences.

 _"_ _Don't you?"_ Jean had asked her when she accused him of wanting to give up. She finally understood what he had meant.

Bradley didn't stay confused or overwhelmed for long. She supposed that whatever power the symbol on his eye granted him probably enhanced his powers of perception, but either way she knew he had them figured out with the sudden determination with which he struck at Al's helmet. The blade was blocked with the alchemist's steel arm, tearing into the metal, but the counterattack from Bradley sent the helmet clattering on the stone floor. Rebecca knew at this moment that mere seconds meant the difference between life and death as she quickly dislodged her weapon from where it had been stuck in the seal, pulling it up just in time to shoot Bradley's striking hand, causing him to recoil in shock as Alphonse shouted a would be too late "Watch out, Rebecca!"

The safety of Al's helmet blown away, Rebecca reconsidered her strategy. In the seconds in which Bradley was deterred, she pulled herself up, settling each foot into the armor's arms, a gun cradled in each arm and the rest of her ammo just beneath her.

"Alright, you want to try killing me again?" she said with a leer as she unleashed the rounds of both guns directly into the Fuhrer's heart.

This time she was not going to give him an opportunity to strike back, pushing him back every time he was ready to recover with another storm of bullets, pulling out another loaded gun from beneath her when one ran out of ammunition. She braced herself, pushing her calves against the sides of Alphonse's armor as the boy moved in his own fight with Envy until one blow was too much, sending Rebecca and her ammunition flying to the ground. She silently thanked her military training for her ability to mostly correct this into a roll and come up fighting.

This was hardly an evenly matched fight, with immortal monsters battling two humans (although one slightly more immortal than usual), but it was clear that the furious brute force of Al's attack on Envy was wearing down the homunculus more than Rebecca's attack on Bradley was, with his impossible blade blocking a shocking number of bullets.

"Rebecca!" Al called in sharp surprise and the lieutenant turned around, a momentary distraction Bradley used to barrel down one of the darkened tunnels, presumably to get reinforcements. Rebecca debated following after but instead decided to focus on the apparently empty space Al was referring to, where only moments ago the homunculus Envy had been.

"Where did they—"

"Look."

The thing at Al's feet resembled something like a green slug, albeit one with legs and a vicious row of teeth.

"What is that thing?"

"I'm not sure," Al admitted. "I thought I had them finally defeated and then it just sort of… came out of their body."

Death-Slug coughed up words in an infuriating high pitch. "Don't recognize me human? I should have guessed I'd be dealing with such idiocy with morons like you."

While the voice was unfamiliar, the condescension was unmistakable.

" _Envy?_ " They said in perfect unison.

"Who else, dumbass?" Death-Slug crawled off of their side. "You saw me transform right in front of you."

"So is this your… ah… final form?" Rebecca questioned.

"Hardly!" wheezed the sperm. "This is merely my weakest appearance. Few have been so privileged to reduce me this state."

"This is your mortal form, isn't it?" Rebecca mused. It made sense. "You're every bit as vulnerable as I am."

"Well I uh… I suppose," the creature admitted, but hastily bumbled on. "But infinitely more valuable! Within this tiny frame is a massive intellect you humans could only dream of comprehending! All of the homunculi's secrets; really I could be an invaluable tool to you worms. I know exactly how to navigate the labyrinth, everything about your friend Mustang, perhaps… perhaps we could make an exchange? Return me to the center of the labyrinth and I might just give you all the information you need, at great personal sacrifice to myself I might add. It's an offer you can't refuse!"

"Watch me," Al said coldly as his metal boot crushed the homunculus.

Rebecca stood still for a moment, looking at the spot Envy had been moments before, now only a small scraping of green slime. "Al…" She said quietly, try to picture that same cruel condemnation coming from the boy she had only met days earlier.

"What?" He snapped. "It needed to be done. That thing would only have ended up betraying us."/

He was right of course, but somehow that didn't make the truth any less of a terrible thing. How Rebecca would have preferred that foolish belief in goodness a fourteen year old ought to have had over a realism crueler and more accurate than even her own, which had been formed through war torn years.

"We could have gotten information out of them at least." She argued for the sake of decency. "They said they knew about Mustang. Or we could have just left them here; they weren't going to get anywhere any time soon, it wouldn't have hurt us."

"They had it coming," the metal alchemist said. "You can't seriously tell me they didn't deserve that."

Rebecca was quiet for a moment. "Envy didn't kill your brother, Al."

Al shook his head angrily. "They might as well have. Any of the homunculi would have if they had had the chance." He stormed down the passageway Bradley had escaped through. "Come on, Bradley couldn't have gotten far."

Rebecca shook her head. "I think you're forgetting something."

"What?"

"How about why we're here? It's not just so you can live your revenge fantasy, Alphonse; it's to make sure Riza is okay!"

"And?" Al said. "She will be okay when the homunculi are dead. Fighting two of them at once nearly wiped you out; our only hope is to pick them off one by one before Bradley can come back with reinforcements.

"I didn't come here for a massacre; I came to help my friend and to keep you from trying to do something like this! You can't possibly expect to take out every homunculi and survive!"

"Well maybe I don't," argued Al. "But at least I'll have _done_ something, all I could to take these bastards down!" He shook his head, backing away. "Back at the hospital I thought you understood. Bringing you here was a mistake." With that he turned and sprinted into the darkness before them with a hollow sound in each step until it too faded into blackness.

"Alphonse!" Rebecca called after him, but the sound was merely consumed by the void.

Rebecca was alone, at once aware of just how impenetrable the surrounding darkness was. She kneeled down, feeling the floor for her equipment that had been thrown from Al's armor in her fall. She found her bag at last and used the remaining ammunition to reload her gun. Despite her weapon, Rebecca was once again all too aware of her own vulnerability in this unfamiliar territory. Searching for Riza would have been ideal, but Rebecca really had no idea where to even start and, mortal and breakable as she was, she had the self-awareness to know that she didn't stand a chance against any obstacles without a giant invincible metal boy by her side.

"Al?" She called again, stepping tentatively into the tunnel. She walked carefully through the blackness with her gun drawn, every shadow somehow longer and more threatening than before, every creak the groans of a monster. She kept one hand to the cold stone wall, keeping track.

There was a rustle— of metal? Something else?

"Al?" It was barely a whisper as Rebecca noticed a shadow stretched out from behind her that hadn't been there before.

"Well, well, well," said a voice. "You look almost familiar."

Rebecca barely had time to register the voice as Roy Mustang's before everything went black.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Hey all! Hope everyone is having a good week. This chapter may look a bit familiar to some of you; it's because it is largely based on a one shot I posted on my Tumblr in December. I knew at the time that it was going to be part of the Lascivious universe, but liked it well enough that I ended up putting it in the fic and on its own. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy! Of course, thanks as always to Kate (rizascupcakes on Tumblr) for beta-ing :)

* * *

 _"_ _I'll need something incendiary," Roy mused, throwing the last pieces of wood into the pit. "If I'm going to bring this into battle. It's all well and good to stand in front of an open flame and move things around, but if I'm going to become a state alchemist the military is going to need to see a more practical application."_

 _Riza sighed over the meticulously copied diagram. With a flush of red to his cheeks, Roy could remember transcribing the information, that excitement of being so close to her bare flesh tinged with a sense of horror due to the circumstances that had lead them there. "Do you need to talk about how you're going to use this to kill people already?"_

 _He fiddled with matchsticks he had pulled from his coat pocket. "Sorry," he said. "You know I don't want to hurt people; I just want to—"_

 _"_ _Protect the people you care about from the people that want to hurt it, I know Roy you've only told me a dozen times." She looked down into the fire pit Roy had carefully assembled in front of them. "It's a noble ambition but always at a heavy cost."_

 _He threw an ignited match into the pit, watching for a breathless moment as it gnawed and consumed the young wood, curling and blackening all it touched until eventually it would die, leaving nothing of the life it had been born from._

 _But still, Riza's face glowed in the darkness with that uneasy orange of the pyre and he just couldn't help but smile at the illuminated contours of that serious expression._

 _"_ _How about we focus on the logistics before you make your grand plans, alright?" She said finally. "Becoming a dog of the military is a far off dream until you can actually figure this out."_

 _He carefully checked that the transmutation circle he had drawn around the pit matched the one on his paper. "I just feel like I must be missing something. It shouldn't be very complicated; the fire's here, I have the situation controlled enough that there should be no more outside elements at play, the circle is set. I don't see why we haven't been successful yet."_

 _"_ _Give it another try," she said patiently. "It's a new day, maybe it'll be yours."_

 _Standing close to the dancing flames, he leaned down to touch the transmutation circle. It glowed weakly, as they had when he was a child first learning alchemy from a dusty old textbook he had stolen from Vanessa. The fire quivered faintly._

 _"_ _Do you want to give it a try?" he sighed. "Maybe it just needs a new set of eyes to see what I'm doing wrong."_

 _Riza took a small step back. "I don't think I'm the person you want for this. Even if I could see what was wrong, I hardly have expertise to realize it."_

 _"_ _I don't think you give yourself enough credit," he teased, and when she didn't relent, "What? Scared of playing with fire?"_

 _"_ _Hardly," she quipped back. "Playing with fire is practically a family tradition." She stepped up the array and Roy could tell she was nervous as she bent before it. Despite her life surrounded by it, she had done her best these past 17 years of her life to avoid alchemy and he could tell it took her a moment to rack her brain for the repressed knowledge._

 _Despite his love for the subject, Roy could hardly blame her. He knew that alchemy was the rot whose stench still clung to the stuffy air. Slowly, bit by bit, it had consumed the Hawkeye family until it left nothing but Riza, alone in the suffocating tomb of a house that had claimed her childhood. Roy had spent his life watching the flames out of a morbid need to understand the death that had claimed his parents, but Riza had been raised alongside the very thing that had ruined her life. To reject alchemy was to breathe, to escape from that same choking death, while Roy pursued that same deadly knowledge with the persistence of an addict looking to be brought closer and closer to the edge._

 _For a moment, he almost called for her to stop but she gently placed her calloused, pale hands on the outline of the circle and again there was that faint glow, that brief flickering of the flame._

 _"_ _I told you; no good." she called. "But actually this gives me an idea."_

 _"_ _I'm listening."_

 _She stood up. "I think we're doing this on too large of a scale. Especially when we have no idea what technique or power is required for this type of alchemy."_

 _Roy frowned in consideration. "What do you suggest then?"_

 _She kicked some of the dirt beneath her boots into the air in absent thought. "Hand me your lighter."_

 _"_ _I don't-"_

 _"_ _And don't pretend you don't smoke." She said. "I've seen you behind the shed in a cloud of smoke and you can't play dumb with me about that."_

 _"_ _I'm quitting," he huffed, but handed her the lighter._

 _She pulled a pen out of her coat pocket and traced the array onto the back of her hand. "I'm not sure how this will work without the lighter inside the array," she admitted, flipping the lighter open in a small of flame. A moment later, however, and the flame burst momentarily several feet into the air in a swarm of red and orange._

 _"_ _Riza!" Roy said, astounded. "You did it!"_

 _"_ _We did it!" Riza had a smile that could make angels cry. "Roy, I figured it out!"_

 _Before he knew it she was in his arms. He had never been a tall man but it was enough to pull her from the ground and into the air where she belonged. It had been over a year since he last kissed her but it felt comfortable and warm in this cold night._

 _"_ _Roy!" She laughed and pulled away. "The lighter's still open; you'll catch on fire."_

 _"_ _Sorry," he said sheepishly. "How did you do that?"_

 _"_ _I'll show you." She grabbed his hand and for a moment lingered like that, just a boy and a girl holding hands before a roaring fire, while Roy struggled to replace what he was sure must be the lamest grin with a cooler expression. It was only a moment though and she soon pulled out her pen and drew the array onto the back of his hand. "So it's pretty simple. Just go through the same process as before, this time just do it as soon as the lighter opens. Take the sparks from the lighter and alchemize it with the oxygen in the air surrounding it to expand the flame."_

 _"_ _Stand back," he warned as she placed the lighter in his hand. The insurgence of flame had been impressive enough for an unpracticed alchemist like Riza and not having fine-tuned it, Roy had no idea what would happen when he tried it. "I would get my ass kicked by Master Hawkeye is he were here to see how many safety procedures we're neglecting right now," he commented as Riza stepped a safe distance behind him._

 _The lighter flicked open and he could feel the electric surge of alchemy course through his hand, up to the lighter and them beyond until—_

 _The surge of flame knocked him off his feet and slamming against Riza behind him._

 _"_ _Shit." He said, but couldn't quite stop himself cracking up. He didn't get up, laying across the grass under the stars in a fit of unrestrained laughter. "Nothing caught on fire, did it?"_

 _Still giggling, Riza picked herself up off the ground, brushing loose grass and dirt off of her blouse. "Luckily no, though if we had been even a little closer to my house it might be a different story."_

 _"_ _Damn, I'll have to try again then." He grinned as he sat up. "I say burn it to the ground."_

 _She pretended to consider. "It's a good plan, but with one weak point."_

 _"_ _And what's that?"_

 _"_ _My house will be burned down."_

 _He grabbed her hands in fake earnestness, pulling her down to his level. "Well you'll live with me of course."_

 _"_ _Of course," she laughed. "How silly of me. In Central?"_

 _"_ _Naturally. With a state alchemist's paycheck, I'll be able to pamper you beyond your wildest dreams."_

 _"_ _And when you go to war?"_

 _"_ _Oh, well, you'll cry for me," he told her. "But when I make a hero's return, you'll be so proud you won't care."_

 _"_ _Sounds lovely," she said. "When can we start?"_

 _"_ _Any minute now. Just let me burn this house down."_

 _They sat like that for a moment, underneath the moon and stars like they had only a year before. So much had changed, the year at the academy had given Roy a kind of discipline he'd lacked before and a greater understanding of the importance, as well as impracticality, of his cause. The shadows underneath Riza's eyes had become darker than ever. And yet they never would have known it as she rested her head against his shoulder in a moment of breathless, unsustainable permanence._

 _"_ _It does sound nice, doesn't it?"_

 _She sighed. "Please don't."_

 _"_ _Don't tell me you don't want that too, Riza. Because we could have that—we could—"_

 _"_ _Dreams… dreams never work out the way you want them to, Roy." She pulled herself away from him. "Do you still have your lighter?"_

 _Hesitantly, he pulled it from his pocket. She took it from him, flicking it open._

 _"_ _You always go one step too far, Roy." She stared at the tiny flame. "You join the military because you think you can save everyone, you alchemize this tiny little spark into a flame thrower, and you want to vandalize my home and run away with me after being reunited for a week. No one does that, no one has the energy."_

 _"_ _I'm sorr—"_

 _"_ _It's what I love about you." She gently interrupted. "I can't stop thinking about this lighter. This tiny flame, and you, completely from your own natural energy, you made it into something so big and bright I could hardly stand to look." She took a deep breath. "Like you did with me. Before I met you I was trapped in this house with my father; I never thought to look up at the stars. I was so scared to grow, to live. And maybe I still am but… but I'm working on it. And now I know there's something else."_

 _He didn't know what to say as she handed the still flickering lighter to him._

 _"_ _It is small." He could feel tears in his eyes._

 _She smiled. "It's your heart."_


	12. Chapter 12

Out of the whispering hollow darkness of the tunnel, two figures were outlined in contrast to the stone behind them. Normally barely perceptible, the rhythmic pattern of the click of their boots on the stone floor seemed to echo through the barren halls of this underground labyrinth.

"Do you even know where the center of all this is?" The brunette said finally, tugging impatiently at the brown plait she had woven her long hair into.

The blonde shook her head. "I already told you; I only sort of know where I had been held down here. We just have to hope that the center is nearby."

The brunette looked up to the swallowing mass of cavern. "We could sooo get lost down here," she complained.

The blonde sped up the clip of her steps and didn't say anything. She was right.

* * *

Rebecca had been awake for a few hours now, or at least it had felt like it. Everything was the same in this stone room, with nothing but black before her eyes and only the cool feel of rock on her hands. Minutes, hours, days— how easily it all could have blurred together into one constancy.

It hadn't always had this… sameness. No, when she had woken up, it had been to voices. Eerily, disgustingly familiar voices.

 _"_ _Was there a reason you didn't just kill her?" That had been Fuhrer Bradley, a man who Rebecca had had to start her career by pledging allegiance to. Her stomach twisted._

 _Roy Mustang's voice came next. "I thought Father might find her useful—"_

 _"_ _You're always avoiding killing people in case they might be useful." Bradley snapped. "I would have hoped after Hawkeye escaped you might have realized that taking prisoners was proving to be a poor strategy. Unless that's what you were thinking when you killed the one person we did need alive."_

 _So Riza had escaped. Rebecca's heart jumped at knowing her friend was safe, but there was the biting realization in the back of her mind of how much had been for nothing._

 _She could hear the anger in Mustang's voice. "That was before you and Envy were unable to defeat an angry teenage boy. A fourteen-year-old who you allowed to kill Envy in front of you."_

 _"_ _I was otherwise engaged—"_

 _"_ _In a stalemate battle with a human you should have defeated easily? Yes, I noticed. Clearly, Father is going to need all the backup he can get and he's been searching for a new candidate for Greed."_

 _Bradley laughed. "And you seriously think he'd be interested in this woman for the position?"  
"After I tell him you weren't even able to kill her, I think yes."_

 _"_ _I was… I was getting there. I'd perfectly happy to demonstrate my ability to kill right now if you like."_

 _"_ _When she's knocked out and locked up?" Mustang said. "By all means, show me your prowess in murdering the helpless."_

 _From the other side of the door, Rebecca could hear Bradley almost growl. "Very well Lust, I'll tell Father about your idea. In the meantime you stay here and make sure she doesn't escape. As for me, I have a small date with destiny; I imagine Alphonse Elric is still running around these halls trying to kill me, a problem which I can say with confidence that I have you to blame for."_

 _Mustang laughed. "Good luck. I hope a disgruntled teenager doesn't end up being too much of a challenge for you."_

 _The echo of Bradley's footsteps faded with distance._

Greed. Rebecca could only hope that she had misunderstood Mustang's—well, Lust's—meaning. She had been horrified enough by hearing Jean's (Oh _God_ , Jean. What was he going to do when all his allies had been killed or made into monsters and he was still unable to fight on the battlefield?) account of the way Mustang had been warped into the embodiment of sin but to go through it herself, to be doomed to a life of assimilation into the mind of a monster, to have her body used for evil or else to spend the rest of her life in a constant battle with the creature inside her…

She remembered telling Jean she'd been willing to die to bring down the homunculi. There were fates worse than that, she realized.

"Is this the place?" Another voice, this time unfamiliar. There was a rattling, a pulling at what must be the handle of the door leading into the room.

"I think so…" Came a second voice, quiet and doubtful, and Rebecca could have cried when she heard it.

"Riza?" she called.

There was a pause. _"Rebecca?"_

"Yes! Get me out of here."

The first voice again. "Do you know her—" Riza cut her off.

"Rebecca, what are you _doing_ here?"

Rebecca laughed desperately, tears welling in her brown eyes. "It's a long story. What are _you_ doing here? I thought you escaped."

"I did! We came back to try to fight the homunculi. We knew we couldn't sit and wait any longer after—well there was this kid I knew—"

"Edward Elric." Rebecca's smile faded. "I know." After a sorrowful pause, she called. "Can you get me out of here?"

"We're doing our best," said Riza. "Vanessa is picking the lock as we speak."

Rebecca frowned. "Who's Vanessa?"

The door swung open to reveal a burst of light that would appear appallingly dim to most people, but in contrast to Rebecca's previous surroundings was almost blinding.

"Me," said a pretty brown-haired woman who still appeared to be engulfed in a halo of light. She stuck out her hand. "Vanessa Mustang. Roy's sister. Nice to meet you."

Rebecca shook the woman's hand with her own introduction and then ran up to embrace Riza. "God I thought you were dead."

"Slow down," said Riza. "I've been a bit off the grid; what exactly is going on?"

So Rebecca explained, as quickly as she could, about how she had heard about Riza's disappearance, her trip to Central, her confrontation of Jean, the ill-fated mission they had sent the Elric brothers on, Al's need for revenge, the events that had transpired in the fight, and the homunculi's plans to turn her into Greed. She did not tell her about her kiss with Jean.

"Wait, that reminds me," she said. "What did you do about Lust?"

"What do you mean?" Vanessa asked.

"He was supposed to be guarding the door; I didn't head a struggle at all. How did you get rid of him?"

"We didn't," Riza frowned. "He wasn't there."

Vanessa shook her head. "Well, either way, we need to find that Al kid. He's only a kid; he shouldn't be out there alone, especially if he's as upset as you said."

Rebecca nodded. "Agreed. He went to follow Bradley; so he can't be too far away. Do either of you know your way from here?"

Silence. "We've been kind of winging it," Vanessa admitted. Rebecca looked at Riza and she shrugged as if to say "What she said."

"Alright," Rebecca said, bemused. "Just the way I like it." And together the three women set out into the encompassing darkness.

* * *

Somewhere, water was dripping. Try as he might, Lust couldn't quite make out the source of the leak among the many pipes that lined the walls of the underground tunnels. The soggy humid air that threatened at all times to choke the tunnel's unlucky inhabitants was one cost of living here, this was another.

Lust kicked the wall. His nerves already frayed, the incessant _tap tap tapping_ only further hindered his attempt to quite literally get himself under control.

 _None of this was supposed to happen._

Every day he thought that he had finally gotten a hold of Mustang, if not obliterating him, then at least weakening him enough to render him incapable of rebellion. And then this sort of thing happened. Like his legs acting against him to carry him away from his post.

"What's your game?" He growled into the mirror across from him. His reflection was obscured by the darkness of his surroundings and the warm fog creeping across the glass, but he could tell that his face remained undisturbed, absent of any evidence of a second inhabitant.

He paced for a minute or two, trying his best to regain his composure. At last, he took a deep breath and made to return to his post.

His leg didn't move.

"Mustang—" he snapped between gritted teeth and a mouth that refused to respond to the urgent requests of his brain. He brought the conversation to his thoughts. _So it looks like you're still around._

He got a splitting headache, something he suspected was Mustang laughing.

 _Did you really think I would go away so unceremoniously?_

 _A guy can hope. Now let me go; you've proved your point. Save your strength to bother me another time._

He felt a chill, a gulp of apprehension that was not his. His hands tightened into fists. He wasn't sure if this was him or Mustang.

 _There isn't going to be another time._

Now it was Lust's turn to laugh, silent and yet echoing through the expanse of their shared body.

 _You really think that this is the end? You've pulled this shit on me before, Mustang, and let me tell you, you've better have a really fucking good card under your sleeve if you actually think you're going to kill me without killing yourself._

 _No cards._ Lust's knees buckled beneath him. _No tricks._ Mustang's voice was calm and quiet, unwavering, and yet Lust wanted nothing more than the block the sound from his ears. _I just think this has gone on too long._

 _You'll burn yourself out, old man,_ Lust shot back. _Even if you killed me you'd be running on borrowed time. At this point your soul might as well be my philosopher's stone; you need_ my _energy to survive._

 _I know._

 _Then what the hell are you doing?_

The feeling that was Roy Mustang grew inside of him. Lust choked on it, as his hands scrambled out like desperate spiders, trying to find anything to hold onto to ground himself, to place himself back into control.

 _I'll show you._

And he did. He showed Lust things he had known but never felt: blood soaking into the sandy earth of Ishval, the screams of a man consumed by flames, the burned and bleeding back of the woman he loved, and Edward Elric's sickeningly warm blood staining his hands with red-brown and regret.

Lust cursed himself for not keeping better tabs on the alchemist, for thinking that the best policy was to reject and suppress rather than monitor and control. It was clear now that Roy Mustang was no longer human, he was a thing as substantial as the flickering of a candle's flame but equally destructive. He had been reduced to a mere sum of his parts, a sensation, a phenomena that retained the barest outline of the motive he had had in his humanity: suffocating regret.

 _What are you?_ He rasped. A headache threatened to splinter his brain in two.

 _I'm you._ Mustang's voice echoed forcefully through his mind. _A monster little more than our basest instincts. A lust for love, for sex, for power._ He paused. _For revenge. For making things right. All of this time you tried to consume me, Lust, and it never occurred to you that we were just the same. That to overcome me required no violent overthrow and instead a simple reconciliation of who we were._ That laugh again. _A man who believed himself to be a monster and a monster who believed himself to be a man. One and the same._

Lust thought about it, his stomach sinking. It made sense, too much sense. _How long did it take you to figure that out?_

 _Too long. I tried to hold onto my humanity, foolishly thinking that that was what could overcome you. I'll never agree with you homunculi; being human… that's something to prize. But,_ His voice shook now. _It's not how to defeat you. It's not something I still deserve. It took Edward Elric to see that. That boy died because I was too busy trying to fight you for control to save him._

Lust didn't have much longer. Black closed in around his vision, or at least a deeper black than the darkness around him. _What's your plan now then? You're weaker than me, even if we're the same like you say, your part will tire out soon enough._

 _I know. This is it. This is what I spend the rest of my energy on. This is when I end things._

Lust used the rest of his energy to spit disdainfully before slipping into obscurity and blackness. _Go to hell, Mustang._

He felt his lips twist into a final smirk.

 _I'll see you there._

* * *

A/N: Hey all! Hope everyone is having a good Saturday. Just to keep you guys updated on this fic's progress: after this chapter, there will just be two more (a final chapter and an epilogue)! It's been a great ride writing this story; this is actually the first multi-chapter story I've ever completed, so it means a lot to me as does all of your support! I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and, of course, a special thanks to Riza's Cupcakes for betaing.


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: Last chapter before the epilogue. I hope you guys enjoy.

* * *

Riza tried to fight the nauseating worry that was currently tearing her stomach to bits. Yes, she and Vanessa had agreed that things had gone too far, that it was time to put an end to this and do what they knew Roy would have wanted them to do all along, but that had been words, an agreement based on logic and not the emotional reality of what this would require.

Riza remembered Roy's words to her all those years ago… to kill him if he ever strayed from the right path. Somehow she always knew she'd have to do it; she would not make Vanessa kill her own brother.

This was assuming that Al didn't get to him first. She found this thought even more horrifying than the prospect of having to do it herself, already disturbed by Rebecca's description of how angry and desperate the kind and gentle boy she knew had become.

And yet… she could hardly blame him. She remembered, almost with shame, sinking to the laboratory floor mere weeks ago, overcome with despair and that desperate anger when the first Lust has told her she had killed Mustang. How foolish of her to be so overcome with grief when he would have needed her most to live in his stead. How unavoidably human of them both, to break when they needed desperately to be whole.

In the distance, there was the unmistakable clamor of steel on steel, of violent forces that could surely only be procured using alchemy.

"Do you think it's going to be much of a match between Bradley and this kid?" She heard Vanessa ask Rebecca from behind her. When Riza had first briefed her on everything Roy had told her about what the homunculi had been doing in Amestris, Vanessa had taken the news that their leader was a monster extraordinarily well, which perhaps was not as surprising as it seemed, given that her career was one built on learning the deepest inner secrets the government had to offer.

Rebecca speculated. "I'm not sure. I wore Bradley out pretty bad earlier and he wasn't exactly in peak condition then either. I don't know how much of a fight he's going to be able to put in."

Riza paused for a moment, analyzing what her friend had said. "Hold on. You don't mean—"

"Oh yeah," Rebecca said curtly. "I'm giving this fight to Al 100%."

Riza considered this. _You really would have thought that, after everything I've been through, the one thing I would have learned would be to not underestimate alchemy._

"Al," Rebecca said in a way that at once seemed very quiet and very loud as they came upon the scene.

Rebecca had been right.

What an invincible thing a soul forged from metal could become, what a dangerous thing when given the right power. She had underestimated Al for years, Riza realized; they all had. How easy it was to overlook cool steel when always right behind Edward Elric's raging fire, but _this_ was Alphonse Elric uncontained. This was the unbridled soul that threatened to burn through any flesh or metal that tried to withhold it, the anguish that consumed its surroundings rather than burning out.

How sickeningly familiar it was. How like another boy whose hope Riza had seen consumed by fire and rage.

But now it wasn't too late. This one could be saved.

"Al," Rebecca said again, and this time he heard.

Riza didn't know exactly what state Bradley had been in before this fight, based on Rebecca's account it wasn't a good one, but she imagined he had probably looked spritely in comparison to his condition now.

"Rebecca?" Al said, looking up from the flurry of aggression and alchemy that has moments before surrounded him. It was a moment of a distraction a more able opponent would have taken advantage of, but Bradley stayed weakly on the floor. _This really was the end._ "Lieutenant Hawkeye! So you're okay." He didn't acknowledge Vanessa because he didn't know who she was. This wasn't really like him, but _he_ wasn't really like him at the moment either.

"I am," Riza acknowledged carefully. "Al… we can go now."

He looked to Bradley darkly. "Lieutenant you should know that I'm going to finish what I came here for." His words were quiet, but there was a heaviness filling the room that was almost deafening.

"Revenge?"

"Is it only revenge if I'm bringing down people that will only bring more suffering if they live?"

"You're fourteen!" Rebecca interjected. "No one's saying that—" She looked sharply at Bradley, who, despite his predicament, gave her a cool smile. " _Wrath_ here shouldn't die. Or any of the other homunculi. But Riza and I— Vanessa, are you in the military?"

"Not exactly," the brunette said. "But we work very closely," she added, almost as a private joke to herself.

"Riza and I are in the military. We can take care of this, it's what we do. Killing someone like this, in the heat of revenge, that weighs heavily on a person, on a soul. No one knows that better than us. You're a kid—"

"That never mattered before!" The ice to his tone had thawed and now each word threatened to burst into flame. "The universe didn't care I was only a kid when Mom died, it didn't care when I lost my body, it didn't care when my dad left, and it sure as hell didn't care when it took away the only person I had left! And now that I have _nothing_ , I'm supposed to worry about preserving my innocence or something? To suffer in silence in a body that isn't real instead of using what I have _to try to fix something_."

"Al," Riza started. "I know how you must feel—"

"NO YOU DON'T." There was something powerful, alchemical and electric, that seemed to dance beneath their feet. "None of you know what it's like to lose your brother!"

"You're right. I don't." The calm voice seemed out of place in the midst of all of this. "But I think I'm about to find out."

"Who are you?" Al said to Vanessa. He sounded more tired than anything else.

"Vanessa Mustang." She said and understanding dawned on Al's face. "Yeah."

He didn't say anything to the woman, but he stopped and regarded her.

"I'm not going to tell you that your way of dealing with things is worse than mine," she said. "Because honestly, I don't think I've really even let myself deal with things yet. But this anger, it's only tearing you apart. When you left Rebecca behind today to go on your revenge quest? She got captured by the homunculi; they were going to turn her into one of them."

Al started. "Rebecca—"

Rebecca shook her head. "It's fine, Al. It wasn't your fault. I'm okay now."

"No it's not," he said miserably. "I… I was so upset about my brother I almost let something worse happen to you."

"No one blames you for that," Vanessa said carefully. "But this needs to end. Understand?"

Al looked to the ground, to the ceiling above him, anywhere around him almost as if he was searching for any answers but the ones he had been presented with.

"I just…" His metal fist clenched. "Dammit. Dammit!"

"I know," Vanessa said, and her voice shook. "I know."

"I can't even cry in this body," he admitted. "I've lost everything I have and I haven't been able to cry once in three years. I guess… I guess there are other ways of breaking down."

"That's fucking twisted," Vanessa said, but it seemed almost comforting.

"Yeah." He looked at her, as if the frankness of it, the acknowledgment that _this was not okay_ , was exactly what he had needed to hear. One desperate animal howling into the unforgiving night to listen, to hear the sound returned, to know it was heard.

He took a breath and a step back. "Lieutenant Hawkeye? You can finish this."

Riza looked at Wrath, who had managed to collect himself just enough to attempt to stagger onto his feet.

He stared at her coolly. "Lieutenant."

She nodded sharply. "Sir," she acknowledged as she shot him in the head. And that was all it took.

* * *

Consciousness had become a fleeting thing. Or perhaps—was this what control had always been like? The blur of memory and reality, past and present tied together by a red string of blood and barely recalled purpose?

It had been a while since Roy Mustang had been human, but he was fairly certain that it had not been like this.

Perhaps during the worst of it; he could imagine Ishval had felt much like this current battle with Pride did: instinctive, empty, all-consuming. It was a fight Roy Mustang could not have won, not against the strongest of the homunculi. It was certainly one that Lust could never have hoped to win. But in this state of in between— the black talons, one last remaining gift of the process that has robbed Mustang of his alchemy and most of his soul, slashed through the homunculus one final time.

He watched the thing that had looked like Selim Bradley disintegrate.

He didn't have long left.

What should his next move be? Or more importantly, how to approach endgame? It was the last thing he wanted to contemplate in this state, in these final agonizing hours of freedom, so instead, he moved onto his next target, searching for Wrath to take him down as well. That was the important thing, to do as much damage as he could before the end—

A memory flitted to the front of his consciousness, as they were prone to do in this creature that had become little more than a memory himself.

 _Riza—_

He pushed it away. _Not here, not now_. There was no excuse for sentimentality in these final critical moments. The loss of his humanity had rendered him a being of pure _purpose_ and how desperately the world needed that now—

But he could still feel the lingering excitement of the memory of her hands on his skin.

A gunshot rang out somewhere beyond stone corridors and darkness. He quickened his pace, nearly losing himself in the aftermath of the silence. But it was brighter up ahead and so he emerged upon the scene.

"Mustang?" This was Rebecca.

"Roy?" This was Vanessa.

"Colonel?" This was Al.

"Lust." This was Riza.

"Not quite," he replied, smiling despite himself. He really had thought he would die without seeing her again, that that desperate kiss would be their final memory together. And Vanessa—too much had happened since he had last seen his sister. He couldn't make himself look at Al.

"Are we really supposed to believe that?" Rebecca said crossly, with a kind of bluntness that came with being the person in the room who decidedly cared about Roy Mustang the least. "Because I _just_ saw you a few hours ago and you were distinctly _not_ Roy Mustang.

Riza shook her head. "No. This is him." A thousand memories, a hundred kisses, infinite meaningful looks and chaste but electrifying touches rebounded through Roy's being. This was what was left and the agony of it destroyed him.

Tears had not yet begun to well in her eyes but he knew they were there. They both came into this knowing how it ended. They had, years ago, when they made that promise in his office.

"I killed Pride if that's any proof or consolation to you," he told Rebecca.

"And we just killed Wrath," Vanessa told him. "Always a step ahead of you, baby brother."

He laughed despite himself. "Gotten in over your head yet?"

"Hardly. Haven't had this much fun in years," she said wryly.

"How long before Lust takes over?" Al asked. Roy knew Al well enough to know the boy wouldn't necessarily blame him for what had happened, but that didn't mean he was hurting any less.

"I—I'm not sure," he admitted. "It's different this time. I have him pretty much subdued—it's difficult to explain but he's still here, just assimilated into _me_ for now, instead of the other way around, but it's not long until the," He struggled for the words. " _Roy-ness_ of this existence runs out and then that will leave whatever I've left of him."

Rebecca blinked. "That doesn't sound good."

"I don't think it's supposed to be. I don't imagine the core being of any sin is particularly pleasant company."

"And how much longer until then? Ballpark number."

He thought about the exhilaration during his battle with Pride, about the memories that replayed themselves with every brush of a reminder. This was decomposition, this was his mind breaking itself down into the merest sum of its parts. "An hour, maybe, before it's over. Things will get bad before then."

Vanessa opened her mouth as if to say something, but slowly closed it again. She understood. There was nothing left to be said.

"Should we…" Rebecca started, clearly feeling that it was her duty, as the one with the least emotional attachment to the situation, to figure things out. It wasn't a good position to be in and Rebecca had never been known for her sensitivity and tact to begin with. "Do you think it would be better to end things now?"

That was a blunt way of putting it.

"Doubtlessly," he said.

He and Riza exchanged a look, the acknowledgment of the promise she had made.

"Now?" she asked.

It couldn't be now, not before he had made things right with Al, before he was able to have one long last talk with Vanessa, before he had taken Riza in his arms and kissed her one last time. But time seemed to be moving unbearably fast and he could feel what was left inside him, the impressions of memories past, fading and unraveling. This was the end.

He nodded. "Now."

Carefully, as if she was handling something sacred, she pulled her gun from her holster.

"No," he breathed, his hand catching hers, skin brushing against skin, two tender things with death in their hands. "Not like this."

Her eyes held a question she already knew the answer to.

"It's not fast enough." He said the words slowly, a schoolboy reciting a poem he had never allowed himself to find meaning in. "Nor inhibiting enough. When I'm… well, incapacitated, Lust might gain enough control to make this a great deal more difficult for you."

"Then what?" she asked warily.

He looked at her.

"No," she said hollowly. "No."

He didn't say anything.

"I don't even remember how. I… I'm not an alchemist, Roy."

"Aren't you?" He reached into his coat pocket for the old pair of white gloves. She blinked back something like tears as he slid the glove over her hand, one final memory playing through his soul. Riza, you've always had alchemy inside you from the day I met you. You don't have to be an alchemist, but it's a natural talent that can't be forced. But right now I…" His voice trailed off as he grasped her hands, his thumb outlining the edge of her gloved palm. "I need you right now, Riza. We need you right now."

The gloved hand dropped. "Show me then."  
He looked at her softly, like she had all those years ago. "It's pretty simple," He said, as she had. "Just remember to do it as soon as you snap your fingers. Take the sparks from the gloves and alchemize it with the oxygen in the air surrounding it to expand the flame."

She held up the gloved hand apprehensively, hesitantly snapping her fingers. Two sparks, ironic points of light in an enveloping darkness, burst into existence only to quickly fade.

"It's so small." There were tears in her eyes.

He smiled. "It's your heart."


	14. Chapter 14: Epilogue

It was a disgustingly beautiful day, one that deserved immortalization on oil paintings and had no business in reality. Sunshine filled the sky, illuminating the rare cloud with all its brightness and glory. Tree branches inked intricate tattoos into the pale grass with their shadows, the illusion only wavering with shaking from the softest breath of wind.

It was a day for memories to be made, not for reflecting on those of the past.

 _Hopefully,_ Jean thought, feeling all too conscious of the ring box in his pocket, _today can be a day for both._

It had been several months since he had watched Rebecca and Al leave to descend into the homunculi's lair and the world had progressed shakily ever since. The nation reeled from the loss of their Fuhrer and Rebecca's subsequent campaigns to expose what he had been. It had been a source of national shock as the scandal was increasingly exposed and it became revealed just how deep into the military Bradley's schemes had gone. And it wasn't ever over. Just as somewhere, Father lurked beneath the city, those in league with the homunculi remained in the underbelly of the military.

Still, they were a country aware now. When doomsday came, its forces would be not only weakened but also confronting a nation of the prepared.

The car skidded to a halt.

"This is the place, right?" Rebecca said, frowning.

Jean looked at the cemetery. It had a sort of natural beauty that seemed almost inappropriate given the context.

"Yeah," he said. "This is the place."

Rebecca got out of the car and pulled his chair from the back, helping him into it. Comfortable silence fell between the two. Rekindling their relationship had been rocky at first, but it hadn't taken long before the old familiarity, that undeniable _rightness_ had set in.

It was a pleasant enough walk as she pushed his chair along the path. The air was cool and fresh and it was it beginning to sound like spring.

When they came upon the gravestone, a pretty and misleadingly delicate looking woman was already there, her dark brown hair tied back into a plait down her back.

"Vanessa!" Rebecca said with a warm smile.

"Rebecca," she said. "Lieutenant Havoc."

"Just Havoc now," he said with a half-joking sigh, a little too conscious of the memory that he had used to have a bit of a crush on the woman, a fact which he was sure she was all too aware of. It felt like a lifetime ago. "Or Jean."

"Are you two here to visit?" She gestured at the gravestone at their feet.

 _Roy Mustang_

 _1885-1914_

"Yeah," he said. "It's been a while."

"Do you come here often?" Rebecca asked.

"Not that much," Vanessa answered. "Once a week or so. Not as much as I did at first. It's a little weird," she reflected. "After all this happened, it was like I wanted time to stand still. It seemed like there was no way the rest of the world could keep moving on like it used to. But somehow it did anyway and, eventually, I just started moving with it."

Jean understood in a way. When had it been that getting into his chair every morning had started to feel normal? When had it been that all of this loss they lived with every day started to feel like routine? Something about this acknowledgment that they had become used to hurting was unbearable, but it also made it livable. It made it possible to notice how bright the sun was even when his old commanding officer was in the dirt before him.

"Have you two heard much from Alphonse?" Vanessa asked.

"Not a lot," Rebecca said. "He calls every so often." Al was working very hard with a group that was focused on tracking down those still hiding in the military who had worked with Bradley in his plot to sacrifice the country in a transmutation circle, and hopefully end the plan altogether.

"He stopped by the other day," Vanessa told them. "Riza's still staying at my place and he needed to see her for help with something to do with the military. It seemed like he was doing well."

"How _is_ Riza?" Rebecca asked apprehensively. "I was supposed to see her while I was in Central but something came up? A meeting or something?"

Vanessa smiled a half smile. "Oh that. Yeah, that woman never stops. She's the sort of person that sees what makes everyone else want to give up, and just remembers why she needs to keep fighting."

Rebecca nodded, with a bit of a laugh. That sounded like her friend.

* * *

"I really can't say I ever took you for the type who was desperate for promotion, Captain Hawkeye," the burly man took a drag from his cigar, shaking the ashes clumsily onto a silver ashtray, several of them missing and drifting down into his blue uniform, "You always took your job so seriously; I somehow felt that you were really in it for your country, not your career."

The blonde woman standing on the other side of the mahogany desk showed neither satisfaction at the man's commendation of her selflessness, nor displeasure at the insinuation that she had abandoned it.

"I think you'll find that I'm not desperate for a promotion, General Gallagher," she said coolly, "I merely think that-"

"Of course," There was no sign that the man had even noticed she had begun to speak, "That was all when you were under Mustang, wasn't it? For years, you stayed at First Lieutenant as he rose through the ranks and then…"

Something about Riza seemed to stiffen and the man took notice.

"That was insensitive, wasn't it?" He sighed. "He died a hero of course, though you'll find many officers who would disagree—not that they'd admit that publically; that's just about the surest way to reveal you were in the inner circle with that homunculi business. The point is, now that he isn't your CO, you suddenly seem very interested in all those offers for promotion and reassignment you'd been turning down. What is that? Loyalty?"

"I did my job as I thought it would best serve Amestris, sir," she said stiffly, "As I am doing now."

"And you've been doing that very well, Captain." He tapped the side of his nose thoughtfully. "Dozens of successful missions just in these past few months... particularly your team's work with Drachma, perhaps not directly under your leadership but I've read the reports. I know who what was responsible. I couldn't have asked for better."

"Thank you, sir," Riza said and added coolly. "Though I still don't see why you think I'm desperate for a promotion."

She was testing him, they both knew it, and the challenge weighed heavily on the room.

He laughed, "Well, aren't you? God knows you deserve one the way you've been working. Which is why I've called you into my office today." He smirked. "Congratulations, Major." He handed her an official-looking envelope from across his desk. "Do your country proud."

"Thank you, sir," she said with a salute and turned to exit the office. They both knew she had come in knowing that this would be the outcome. There was no longer room for humble surprise; she had lost too much time already.

"You know," she could hear the General mutter, nearly to himself, as she closed the door behind her, "Sometimes I think that you're trying to fill your old superior's empty shoes."

"That's a bit ridiculous, sir," she said as she closed the door, "Even if I became Fuhrer I doubt I could fill those shoes."

 _But I'm trying to_ , she thought desperately as she left the building, staring up at the startlingly blue sky as if, somehow, that way Roy could hear her. _I'm finishing what you started, sir. Even if I can't help you from behind anymore, if I have to climb my way to the top myself, the two of us will have rebuilt this country from the inside._

Promises and dreams for the future, imagined on desert sands and behind marble walls… She stared at the same sky they had lain under all those years ago, at the infinity holding answers and potential, all the pain and joy the future had in store. How little they had known back then. How little she knew now.

She closed her eyes, allowing a moment to soak in the memories, to almost hear the voice of the boy she had known so long ago, before she forced herself back into the present.

This was only the beginning.

* * *

A/N: Lascivious is a story that has been a part of my life for over two years now and it makes me a little emotional to finally see it go. When I started this fic, it was the summer before my senior year of high school and I had never managed to complete any multichapter work before. Now, as I post the final chapter, I'm a week into my second year of college and I think I've grown a lot as both a person and writer in this time. I don't have a great excuse for how long it took me to write this story, other than life getting in the way, but the process of writing this and making myself finish it has been an incredible experience for me as a writer. This is the first story of this length I ever completed and it will always hold a special place in my heart for this reason. I see my own writing today and how much I've grown in speed and style and I really think I have this fic to thank above all else for the way I've progressed.

And of course, the characters. In a lot of ways, I think I've moved on from the FMA fandom, but writing this story has helped me to connect again and again to Roy and Riza and Rebecca and Al and everyone I fell in love with when I first watched FMA three years ago. Thank you so much for everyone who has been reading this fic and leaving favorites and kudos and comments and likes and tags and reblogs in all the platforms it's appeared in. Thank you to rizascupakes for betaing this story throughout the entire process while valiantly wading through my horrendous grammar. Thank you to the people I've bounced ideas off of and to mustangsflame and neopuff for drawing art of certain scenes of it, which is just about the coolest thing someone could possibly do for something I created. I know at the end of the day, this is just a silly and fairly short fanfic, but it's held an important place in my life and I'm so grateful for everyone who helped shape it.


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